


Into the Rose-Garden

by aphreal



Series: Opportunities, Lost and Regained [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AU of an AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6503722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphreal/pseuds/aphreal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hero of Ferelden wed the newly-crowned king, prepared to live happily ever after. A decade later, Meriana and Alistair are forced to admit things aren't looking so bright. Perhaps it's time to look elsewhere for happily ever afters. </p>
<p>A fix-it apology fic following after Missed Opportunities, in which I put the otps back into the proper pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chenria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chenria/gifts).



> Footfalls echo in the memory  
> Down the passage which we did not take  
> Towards the door we never opened  
> Into the rose-garden. 
> 
> \- TS Eliot, Four Quartets

Alistair stared unseeing into the fire built up in his hearth, trying to let the flickering patterns of the flames supplant the chaos in his mind. One hand idly swirled his goblet of wine, a bitter red vintage from somewhere in the Anderfels. He disliked it, the acidic taste, the way it left his tongue feeling tight and dried. Doubtless he could have asked for something else and had a servant bring it, but given everything else happening at the moment -- the sky torn open, the Divine murdered, apostates and renegade templars terrorizing his citizenry, Orlais erupting into at least one civil war -- bad wine seemed like an awfully petty thing to complain about. 

He drank another mouthful, grimacing as he swallowed, running his tongue against the inside of his teeth as if he could scrape away the feeling that the roof of his mouth had been turned to leather. 

Maker’s blood, it had all gone wrong. And everything he tried to do only made it worse. He’d agreed to the use of Haven as a meeting place for the fighting Chantry factions, hoping the sacred site would bring them the same sort of peace he’d felt the first time he’d entered the Temple of the Urn. The results of that plan spoke for themselves rather eloquently, in the form of a gaping green hole in the sky and Chantry forces holed up all over Thedas sniping at each other in bids to fill the power vacuum. 

Trying to pick up the pieces afterwards, he’d invited the rebel mages to shelter at Redcliffe, hoping that standing behind solid, defensible walls would calm their understandable fears before fear turned them desperate and even more tragedy followed. By all accounts, the Hinterlands were being torn apart by mages, templars, demons, bandits, lyrium smugglers, some sort of doomsday cult, and apparently, a sudden increase in aggressively violent bears. So clearly that had been a brilliant move. 

Alistair longed to send troops to restore order in the Hinterlands. The reports piling up on his desk horrified him. People were dying. His people. He’d grown up there, probably knew some of the nameless casualties in the reports, assuming any of the people he'd known had survived the Blight to still be there to suffer now. But as much as he wanted to deploy the army, he couldn’t. He couldn’t afford to pull troops back from the border, not with Orlesian civil war becoming more likely every day. He couldn’t strip guards from the capital in the midst of rumors about assassination attempts on every head of state in Thedas. Although he couldn’t help but wonder if Ferelden might be better off without him at this point. He bore responsibility for the wellbeing of every person in his borders, and it felt increasingly like he could do nothing to protect any of them. 

Maker’s breath, his head hurt! The nagging, scraping itch inside his skull had become almost constant now. Another gulp of the bitter wine. Alcohol numbed the headaches sometimes, or at least let him sleep for a few hours in spite of them. 

Alistair raised his head at the sound of rapid footsteps in the corridor. A servant -- Robin, that was the boy's name -- stood in the doorway, fidgeting. "Your majesty?" 

Alistair attempted a reassuring smile. "What's the matter?" 

"Lord Guerrin wants to see you, sire. Should I show him in or ask him to wait for morning? It's rather late." 

"I'll see him now, Robin. Late or not, I'm awake." And if Eamon, a notorious morning person, thought something was urgent enough to discuss at this time of night, it might not wait until morning. 

It was not Eamon who appeared in the doorway. 

"Teagan!" Alistair rose to his feet and was halfway across the room before he consciously decided to move. 

His uncle looked alarmingly worn down. Road dust coated clothes so wrinkled he must have slept in them for at least a week, and as Alistair got close, he was assaulted by an overwhelming odor of horse. 

"Your majesty." Teagan attempted a shallow bow, staggering as he straightened up. 

"None of that." Alistair caught his arm as he swayed on his feet, guiding Teagan firmly to a chair. 

His uncle hesitated, looking down at his ruined clothes. "I shouldn't. The upholstery."

"Damn the upholstery." Alistair pushed him until he had no choice but to sit. "I care about you, not some blighted chair." He resumed his own seat. "Tell me what happened." 

Teagan's face turned grim. "We've lost Redcliffe." 

Alistair was grateful he'd sat down. The news hit him like a blow to the gut. It was unthinkable. "How? To who?" 

He'd studied military history. Redcliffe was nearly unassailable. Claiming it took an army, and even then the siege lasted for months. For it to fall so quickly with no warning... Impossible. The Orlesians couldn't have gotten a large enough force so far within his borders undetected, never mind capturing the castle. 

"Tevinter." 

That was even more unthinkable. "Maker’s blood, how?" 

"From within, of course." Teagan's lips twisted in disgust. "The Grand Enchanter handed it to one of them." 

"It's not hers to give." Alistair caught himself clenching his sword hand, in search of a hilt. "I offered the mages sanctuary, not the right to give away a tenth of my kingdom and its most defensible fortress to the Imperium." 

"They seem to have missed that distinction." Teagan sounded bitter and exhausted, too drained to even be angry any longer. 

“I haven’t.” Alistair was more than willing to be outraged on his behalf. “This can’t be allowed to stand. We’ll get Redcliffe back. And then I’m throwing the magister, the Grand Enchanter, and everyone who follows either of them out of my kingdom.” 

Teagan offered an indistinct noise of agreement. 

Staring back into the fire, Alistair idly reached for his goblet, taking another sip of the bitter wine. He grimaced at more than the taste. “My manners are terrible. I’m sorry. I’ll get Robin to bring in another glass.” He frowned into the dark red liquid. “Or something worth drinking.” 

Before Alistair could call for a servant, Robin appeared again, carrying a tray of food. He hesitated in the doorway. “His lordship looked like he could use a meal. I asked the kitchen to send something up. I hope that was all right.” 

Alistair smiled, beckoning him in. “It was more than all right. Thank you.” 

Robin set the tray on a small table between their chairs, bowed quickly, and left, smothering a yawn. 

The tray held a sizeable meal, proof that a decade of catering to a pair of royals with Grey Warden appetites had distorted the kitchen staff’s idea of a reasonable midnight snack. Teagan stared at the food for a moment before eating steadily, like a man who had barely had any food for days, which was likely accurate. 

As his uncle ate, Alistair drained his wine and refilled his goblet from the bottle of a more palatable vintage that had come with the meal. He stared into the fire and contemplated how to respond to this unexpected opportunity. While Teagan ate, Alistair considered the conversation he had been putting off for far too long. 

Finally, when Teagan had finished and settled in to sip at wine of his own, Alistair spoke again. “Meri’s not here. Away on Warden business.” He took another long drink, swallowing down further words as bitter as the earlier wine. 

A slight pause before Teagan responded, his words carefully chosen, carefully neutral. “I’m sorry to miss seeing her.” 

More wine to cover words that shouldn’t be said, at least not rashly. 

The silence fell again. 

Alistair stared into the fire, gathering his scattered thoughts past the headaches and the alcohol. Teagan’s steady, even breathing slowed to the point Alistair wondered if the heat and food on top of exhaustion had almost lulled his uncle to sleep. That spurred him to open the forbidden conversation before he lost the opportunity. Or his nerve. 

“Do you remember the last time we sat here and talked like this? Maker’s breath, it feels like forever.” 

Teagan stirred, raising his nodding head. “It has been ten years.” 

“No, it feels longer. A lifetime. I made you a promise that night.” Alistair sighed. “I haven’t kept it.” 

Teagan straightened in his chair, posture stiff and tense. Well, that had gotten his attention. 

Alistair scrubbed his hand over his face, turning from the fire to face his guest, needing clarity and openness. “I’ve tried. Maker knows I’ve tried. But Meri and I... ” He shook his head. “I love her. Of course I do. I always have. But that’s not enough any more.” 

“I’m sure things have been difficult recently. It can’t help that duty keeps you apart so often.” 

Alistair’s bitter laugh cut him off. “I think it’s easier for her when she has a reason to be away. Easier for us both.” He swallowed another large mouthful of wine, scarcely tasting it. His gaze drifted back to the fire, finding it easier to talk about this without having to look his uncle in the eye. “We shared some of the worst things people can go through, Meri and I. Surviving that should bring us together, shouldn’t it?” He shook his head with another pained chuckle. “But it’s like I keep her trapped in that time, like seeing me reminds her of every horror we saw, every choice she regrets. I’m too tied to parts of the past she wants to forget. As long as I’m here, she can’t move on from it. Neither can I.” He took a deep breath, staring dry-eyed into the fire. “And it’s destroying both of us.” 

“I’m sorry.” Teagan’s hand on his arm, the touch gentle, startled him. 

Alistair swallowed hard, the sympathy almost more than he could withstand. He pulled his arm away under the pretense of reaching for the wine bottle to refill his half-empty cup. 

Taking another drink to steal time, Alistair gathered his thoughts. Teagan remained silent, giving him that space, and he was grateful for it. 

Lowering his cup, he looked over at his uncle again. “I know she still writes to you.” 

Teagan’s brows lowered. “I’ve never made a secret of it. I enjoy our correspondence, but there’s nothing inappropriate in it.” 

Good. If he felt the need to defend his utterly innocent letters, that meant he’d been working to keep them so innocent. That there was something worth concealing.

“I know. Your replies are addressed to both of us.” Alistair felt his lips curve into a faint, wry smile. “Meri reads me your letters.” He took a deep breath, meeting Teagan’s eyes firmly. “Write her one that she won’t.” 

Teagan sat back, head slowly shaking. “I don’t think I follow you.” 

Alistair laughed mirthlessly. “It’s simple. I’m asking you to court my wife.” 

Teagan stared at him, at a loss for words. 

Alistair persisted. “Can you do it? Do you still have feelings for her?” 

Reluctantly, Teagan nodded. “Meriana is a very special woman. I would be blind not to see it.” 

“And you’d be a fool to walk away from a chance with her a second time.” Alistair gripped his goblet stem hard enough that the raised ridges of the metal pressed dents into his fingers. “I can’t make her happy any more, if I ever could. Find out if you can. Please. For her, for yourself. For me.” 

Teagan opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head, in confusion more than denial. “I don’t know what to say.” 

Fancy that, him throwing someone else off balance for once. “Just think about it. You don't have to do anything tonight. It’s late, and I don’t know how you’re still awake after what it took to get here. But please, before we leave to wrest your home back from the damned magister, write Meri a letter that includes all of the things you’ve left out of your previous ones.” 

 

Hands shaking, Teagan set the quill down before he scattered droplets of loose ink across the page of carefully written lines. Perhaps it would be better if he allowed the ink to splatter, if he poured the entire well over the paper, completely obscuring his mad, foolish words. 

Maker’s breath, how could something as simple as a letter make him feel like an untried youth again? 

He looked back over what he’d written, this latest version after Maker knew how many drafts. 

_My dearest Meriana,_  
I wish I had seen you on my visit to Denerim. Your presence is always the highlight of my trips to the capital. Each time I am here, I store up every smile, every laugh, every glance from your sparkling eyes as treasures I hoard until I will see you next.   
If I were a weaker man -- or perhaps a smarter one -- I would find reasons to visit far more often. Or admit that I need no reason beyond seeing you.   
Do you ever think about the night of the coronation ball, those stolen hours we shared in the palace kitchens? I have revisited that night in my mind more times than I can possibly count. I relive every shared smile, every shy blush, every brush of your fingers against mine. I wonder how things might have happened differently if I had been more bold, more open. More honest about how I felt and what I wanted.   
Perhaps, so many years later, it no longer matters. Yet in all of those years, I have never stopped thinking of you, of the connection we shared. I have never stopped regretting that I let my actions be ruled by doubt and fear.   
If these ramblings represent nothing more than the nostalgic delusions of an old man, then nothing more need be said. You may forget that I ever wrote these words, and we can retain a friendship I dearly cherish. I made my choices, and I am prepared to continue living with the consequences of my actions, however much I long for the chance to erase a grave error.   
But before I resign myself to my justly earned regrets, answer me honestly: Do you still think about that night also?   
Faithfully yours,   
Teagan 

Teagan pushed the page away, unable to look at it any longer. The words seemed at once too ardent and utterly insufficient. A letter could never properly convey ten years worth of unsaid words and concealed emotions. 

But perhaps it could make a start. 

Taking the page back, he blew across the ink to dry it -- an unnecessary gesture given how long he had sat paralyzed with hesitation since writing it -- then folded the sheet crisply, writing Meriana’s name across the outside and leaving it where it sat on her desk. She would find his letter upon her return, whenever that might be, and he would have his answer, one way or the other. 

 

Meriana’s response reached Teagan along with the news of her return to Denerim, a large parchment packet arriving with the rest of the official correspondence. Cautiously, made uncertain by the size of the bulky packet, Teagan broke the seal, his fumbling hands scattering wax across the surface of his desk, and unfolded the parchment. 

Out fell a bundle of letters, bound together neatly by ribbon, and a small folded piece of paper bearing his name in Meriana’s familiar script. Setting the bundled pages neatly on his desk, Teagan unfolded the separate sheet, trying to control his trembling fingers. Opening it, he found only a few lines of writing, and he tried not to take the brevity as a poor omen. 

His eyes flicked to the stack of papers that had been enclosed in the packet, confirming that the bundled letters were in Meri's hand rather than his own. His letter had not offended her so badly that she wished to return all of his earlier correspondence and pretend none of it had happened. That was something, at least. 

Enough stalling. If the lines on the page were going to dash his hopes, letting them sit longer wouldn't change that. He forced his gaze down to the words and began to read. 

_Teagan,_  
I'm only just returned to Denerim. The enclosed letters will tell you where I've been, so I won't repeat myself. I wrote to you on my travels, even though I had no way to send the letters. Now that I have couriers again, I can't imagine when I'll be able to steal time to respond properly to the letter you left me.   
So for now, rather than making you wait, I'm sending all of the letters I wrote you while I was away, along with this brief answer.   
I think about that night far more often and more warmly than a married woman should.   
Yours,   
Meriana 

Teagan read over the final line three times before he could convince himself it was real and not simply a delusion born out of his ardent hopes. 

He drew a fresh sheet of paper from its drawer and then sat with ink drying on the tip of his quill as he struggled to put his thoughts into some semblance of order. 

He could write Meriana a letter. Maker’s breath, he could write her a whole stack of letters. And perhaps someday he would, filling a sheaf of paper with the compliments and praises and promises of devotion he had kept silently locked within his heart for far too long. 

But in this moment there was only one thing he wanted -- needed -- to ask her. And he couldn’t bear to wait the weeks it would take for letters to travel across the width of Ferelden to carry his query and then bring her reply. 

Eyeing the rest of the contents of the dispatch pouch -- the official correspondence set unceremoniously aside at the sight of his name in Meriana’s handwriting -- he wondered if the pile contained something urgent enough he could frame it as an excuse to travel to Denerim. Something that would compel his immediate presence in the capital. 

Then his gaze shifted inexorably back to Meriana’s brief message, dwelling on the final line yet again. 

What had he said to her -- if he were a smarter man? 

Void take it, he had all the reason he needed right here. He would leave for Denerim in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Meriana smothered a yawn and tried to focus her bleary eyes on the papers laid out on her desk. She’d never been fond of mornings, but she often found it easiest to carve out uninterrupted time for reading reports early in the day before the endless parade of meetings and social obligations. Besides, sleeping in had gotten progressively more difficult lately, lying alone in a too-large and conspicuously empty bed. 

Alistair hadn’t come to bed again last night. Or at least he hadn’t been there when Meri fell asleep or when she woke up. He might have been there for a few hours in between, but she judged it more likely that he’d slept on the couch in his office. Again. 

Meri wished that bothered her more. 

She knew it should, but somehow there was a sense of relief in not having to pretend. Not having to listen to him breathing on the other side of the too-large bed, both of them faking sleep so they didn’t have to speak to one another. 

It hurt, the distance growing between them. Meri still loved him. How could she not, after everything they had weathered together, everything he had done for her? But she’d come to suspect it wasn’t the right sort of love for a marriage. She loved Alistair the way she loved Fergus. Someone who made her feel safe and cherished, someone she would do anything to protect. Someone she couldn’t imagine her life without. But not someone who made her breath catch and her heart flutter the way… 

Her eyes strayed guiltily to the bottom drawer of her desk, where she had hidden away Teagan’s letter. She’d wanted to put it in her jewelry box. As a girl playing in her mother’s jewelry box, Meri had come across love letters from her father, written during their courtship, and she had fallen in love with the idea of tucking treasured words away like precious gems. She’d dreamed of someday having her own collection of special letters to secret away with her jewelry. Life as queen had brought her far more jewelry than a little girl’s imagination had held, but there had been a definite lack of love letters. Until now. 

Meri worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It was a love letter, wasn’t it? Teagan hadn’t ever used the word, but he’d praised her eyes and smile, written about his need to be near her. Even thinking about the letter made her heart race and her stomach clench with nervous excitement. It had to be a love letter. 

Despite that -- or because of it -- she couldn’t possibly put Teagan’s letter in her jewelry box, where one of her maids might find it while helping her dress for a formal occasion. So she had tucked the letter away in the bottom drawer of her desk, under a pile of unimportant papers, somewhere no one else would ever see it and it could remain her secret. Her treasured, wonderful, guilty secret. 

Meri had read Teagan’s letter so often that she no longer needed to look at it; she could simply close her eyes and see the lines of his writing behind her eyelids, every word preserved in her mind. But over time, doubts had begun to creep in. 

The letter bore no date; she had no way to know how long it sat on her desk waiting to be found. What if Teagan had changed his mind in that time, or come to regret what he’d written? Or what if she had handled things wrong, responding to his beautiful letter with a hasty note written in a state of exhausted disbelief? Her few scratched out lines must have seemed paltry in comparison to the elegant letter he’d left her. Surely he’d been disappointed. Maybe disappointed enough to realize what a mistake he’d made. 

Meri couldn’t think of any other explanation for him not having written again. 

She knew how long it took a courier to deliver a message to or from Redcliffe, and more than enough time had passed for Teagan to receive her letters and send a reply. If he intended to. And the fact that he hadn’t spoke clearly enough. 

Even so, she couldn’t stop hoping. Couldn’t stop her breath from catching every time a pile of correspondence arrived on her desk. Couldn’t stop turning his words over in her mind and imagining what more he might write now that he knew his interest would be welcomed. 

All of which wasted time she could be putting to more productive use. If she was going to be awake this early, she might as well accomplish something with her time. 

Clearing the pointless hopes and worries from her mind -- and pointedly not looking at the bottom drawer with its treasured secret -- she turned her attention to the report atop the stack of waiting papers on her desk. It supposedly contained an analysis of various sites that might serve as a new Circle -- or perhaps it should more properly be called a College now -- but it quickly became clear that the suggested locations had been chosen to take land away from the writer's political rivals rather than based on their actual suitability. Clenching her quill too tightly, Meri scratched out a note to commission a new study and began contemplating the best way to reprimand an advisor for wasting the crown's time and coin on a worthless and self serving report. 

Her focus was interrupted by a sound at her office door, sharply indrawn breath. 

Looking up, she saw Teagan standing in the open doorway, his gaze transfixed on her. Meri felt her heart leap and had to blink twice to convince herself he was real rather than a vision brought on by wishful thinking. 

She must have stared for too long. Teagan shifted his weight, swallowing before finding words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” 

Meri shook her head, chair sliding backwards as she scrambled to her feet. “No, please, come in.” 

He hesitated, but then stepped over the threshold into the room. “I didn’t expect you to be here.” 

She blinked. “It’s my office. Who else were you looking for?” 

“No one but you.” Teagan laughed softly, a fond smile spreading on his face. Meri felt something in her chest warm in response. “I hadn’t thought you would be up and working so early. Since I came without an appointment, my plan was to wait until you had time for me.” 

“Sitting on my desk like a letter until I returned?” Meri walked around her desk to meet him, trailing her fingers over its wooden surface. 

“I would have used a chair, I think.” He crossed the room, coming to a stop two steps in front of her. “But otherwise, yes. I would gladly wait however long it took to see you.” 

The utter sincerity in his voice made her breath catch, and Meri felt her skin flushing with heat under the intensity of his stare. Unable to meet Teagan’s burning eyes, her gaze flicked away from his face, catching sight of a familiar parchment bundle held under his arm. 

“You brought my letters?” 

His chuckle sounded almost bashful. "If I was going to be waiting for a while, I wanted something pleasant to read." 

"You haven't read them yet?" That answered the mystery of why Meri hadn’t received a reply, if he hadn’t even found time to read through the unreasonably thick pile of letters she'd sent him. 

"Oh, no. I have. Several times through." Teagan looked down, his eyes leaving her for the first time since he'd entered the room, and Meri tried to decide if his cheeks held a hint of color hidden behind his beard. "But I would enjoy doing so again." 

His fingers brushed tenderly over the top sheet, the page worn from frequent handling. Meri had never known it was possible to be jealous of paper. 

"Why didn't you write back?" The question came unbidden, and she wished she could take the needy, presumptuous words back as soon as they were spoken. 

Teagan didn't seem offended, though, responding with an easy shrug. "What would I have to write? The everyday happenings in Redcliffe are hopelessly mundane in comparison to your grand adventures. And as for your reply to my letter..." 

He brushed his fingers over the paper again, and Meri's breath caught, realizing it was her simple, hasty note, handled so often that the creases from folding had been pressed nearly flat. 

Teagan swallowed before finishing. "I wanted to respond to that in person." 

Meri felt her mouth go dry, and every word she knew fled from her mind. She nodded mutely, hoping he would continue. 

He did, his voice losing its polished tone to come out rough and hesitant. "You said that you think of our evening together more than a married woman should. I am glad to hear it." He paused, his eyes fixed on her with such a desperate intensity that she felt like she might catch on fire from their heat. "And the only reply I can make, the thing I must know..." 

He took a step forward, close enough she could have raised her hand and placed it on his broad chest. Meri felt dizzy from lack of air as her heart pounded and she forgot how to breathe. 

"What if you were not married?" 

Reality crashed in, and her breath came back in a rush. Shaking her head, Meri took a step backwards, hands reaching behind her for the solid wood of her desk. 

"Don't ask me that. We shouldn't..." Her words trailed off, and she pressed her eyes closed for a moment against the sudden prickle of tears. "I can't think about that. Alistair..." 

"Would be very interested in hearing your answer to that question." 

Meri froze at the familiar, unexpected voice, turning slowly to see her husband leaning against the door frame, arms folded and one eyebrow raised expectantly. 

"This isn’t..." Shaking her head in desperate denial, Meri cast him a pleading look as she stepped away from the desk, moving to stand protectively between Alistair and Teagan. Whatever dreams or fancies she'd had, Teagan had done nothing wrong. He'd done nothing but write her a letter. "At least let me explain." 

Alistair straightened up, pushing off the door frame and stepping into the room. His sad smile caught Meri by surprise, so far removed from the anger she expected, the outrage she deserved. 

He shook his head in a brief denial. "There's no need. I already know. You've smiled more since finding Teagan’s letter than any time in the past..." He shrugged helplessly. "It's been a long time." 

Meri stared, mind spinning. He'd known about the letter. Maybe he'd known about everything. Still, she needed to be sure he understood. "This isn’t Teagan’s fault, any of it." 

"I know." Alistair repeated the words with a sense of weary finality. He came to a stop near her, his hands resting on the back of one of the guest chairs facing her desk. "This isn’t about Teagan. It never has been. It's about us. We're not..." He trailed off, then took a deep breath before continuing. His hands gripped the back of the chair so tightly that his knuckles went white. "We're not working, and we haven't been since a long time before Teagan wrote that letter." A bitter chuckle, pained and anything but humorous. "You've barely been back for a month, and we're both looking for reasons for you to leave again, aren't we?" 

Meri nodded mute agreement, tears prickling hotly at her eyes. She bit her lip to hold in a sob born of mingled relief and despair. The pain in his voice and etched into the lines of his face stabbed her with knives of guilt. But at the same time, she was so grateful to stop having to pretend. 

"I'm sorry." She choked out the words in a broken voice. 

Alistair swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. "We can't keep living this way. _I_ can't keep living this way." His fingers clenched spasmodically against the chair. "You're my best friend, and we can't even talk to each other any more." He shook his head slowly. "If this," hand raised and fingers splayed to emphasize his wedding ring, "is keeping me from talking to my best friend, well, then," another hard swallow, "I don't want it any more." 

He slid the gold band off and placed it in Meri's palm, folding her fingers gently around it. 

Meri looked down at her hand wrapped around the ring Alistair hadn’t taken off since their wedding, and the tears finally spilled over, tracing hot trails down her face.

Soft pressure of fingers under her chin, and Meri let Alistair tilt her head up. His eyes were wet, but he gave her a weak smile of reassurance, brushing his thumb over her cheek to wipe away the tears. "Can I still be your best friend?" 

"Of course. Always." Fresh tears followed the ones he'd swept away. 

Alistair wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, gently kissing her forehead. He rested his cheek against her hair, inhaling a breath that hitched. "Then I'm still a very lucky man." 

Stifling another sob, relief and regret all tangled up inside of her, Meri leaned her forehead against his shoulder and let the tears come. She heard footsteps on the thick carpet, followed by the click of the door latching, Teagan leaving to give them what privacy he could. 

Meri didn't know how long they stood there, but by the time she pulled away and raised her head, the shoulder of Alistair’s jacket was wet, but her eyes were dry. Alistair met her gaze with his own eyes suspiciously red. But his faint half smile seemed less pained than before. 

"We'll have to come up with a political excuse." His voice was rough but steady. "One we can both live with, none of Eamon’s rubbish about failure to produce an heir, like they magically appear out of the Fade by wishing." He snorted and rolled his eyes, and Meri couldn’t help but grin, however weakly. Which had probably been the point. 

Their half-hearted smiles faded quickly, and Alistair finished with a tone of forced calm. "And then I'll petition the Grand Cleric for a divorce."


	3. Chapter 3

**A year later**

Meri found herself more comfortable as arlessa of Redcliffe than she'd ever been as queen. The responsibilities remained similar, if on a smaller scale, but they became less stressful and more enjoyable without the constant scrutiny she'd felt at court. She loved the feel of Redcliffe itself, a solid, defensible fortress overlooking a comfortable village where people knew and trusted her. And of course, there was Teagan. 

Smiling, Meri looked over at her husband, his forehead creased in thought as he tapped his quill down the list of supplies their landholders would need for the upcoming winter. The Hinterlands had suffered badly in the chaos that followed the Conclave, and despite aid from the crown and the Inquisition -- Meri had convinced Alistair that if the Inquisitor wanted the level of authority she claimed to have, she could absorb some of the responsibility that came along with it -- the area had been slow to recover. If the people were going to withstand the winter months, the arling’s coffers would have to provide basic necessities they were unable to obtain on their own. 

Hence the day of meetings with merchants and hopeful trading partners who had begun circling around the potential profits like sharp-eyed ravens over carrion. Teagan had carefully negotiated with each and committed to nothing until he saw all of the offers. Thankfully, there was only one left to meet with. 

Looking up from his list, Teagan glanced over at Meri to confirm she was ready, and then signaled for the seneschal to let in their final appointment, a Messere Alicant operating out of Hercinia in the Free Marches. 

The woman who entered at the seneschal’s summons wore garments that were well made but not ostentatious, and her blonde hair was bound in a practical bun. She greeted them as lordship and ladyship, bowing respectfully. It wasn’t until she rose up again that Meri recognized her. “Alexia!” 

The Marcher woman smiled warmly. “I’m honored you remember after so long.” 

“Of course I remember. You’re family.” Meri raised an eyebrow. “Even if you’re no longer using the Cousland name.” 

“No slight intended to the family. It’s a matter of practicality.” Alexia shrugged apologetically. “All of the company documents, the port agreements and ship papers, are in my husband’s name, so it seemed prudent for me to keep it.” 

Meri pursed her lips in mock seriousness. “I suppose I’ll forgive you. For now.” 

“I appreciate your indulgence.” Alexia sketched a hint of a bow, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “But family or not, I shouldn’t trespass on your time unnecessarily. If I may be so bold, allow me to tell you why I’m here.” 

“Please, do.” Teagan shifted his shoulders, a sure sign that his back had gotten sore from sitting hunched over papers for so many hours. Meri grimaced, wishing they were alone so she could rub the tension from his stiff muscles. 

Alexia nodded. “We both know that the people of your arling need help, and I’m here to offer what I can.” She placed a list on the table between Teagan and Meri. “These are the items my company is prepared to bring to Redcliffe. The Marches had a good harvest this year, as I’m sure you well know. There’s grain and meat and wool to spare.” 

Meri scanned down the list. She didn’t need to compare it to the one Teagan had been perusing to see that many of the items her cousin offered matched those the factors had determined the outlying steadings would need. 

After reading the list, Teagan steepled his fingers and looked up at Alexia, matching her bluntness. “It’s clear that you are well acquainted with our situation and needs. But tell me why -- aside from your kinship with my lady wife -- I should take your offer over others I’ve received today.” 

Alexia nodded as if she expected the question. “The Antivans are the only one of my competitors able to bring you these imports on a comparable scale and quality, and I can give you two reasons that my offer is better than theirs. One, the first portion of the list -- everything denoted with an arrow -- is already in harbor at Highever. Sign with me and I’ll send word for it to be loaded onto carts for transport immediately. You won’t have the wait or risk of an autumn voyage across the Amaranthine Ocean. Two, I came here to help, not to take advantage of your people’s need. I’ll add enough of a margin to keep my ships afloat and my people paid, but my prices won’t be marked up further than that. I don’t expect to make a profit off this venture; I have no intention of lining my pockets off others’ misfortune.” 

Teagan’s eyebrows rose as she talked. “A Hercinian trader not looking to turn a profit? I find that hard to swallow.” 

Alexia laughed. “I was raised in Hercinia, but my family’s Fereldan, if you go back far enough.” She nodded at Meri. “I’m here for reasons of compassion and blood, not coin.” 

Teagan continued to look skeptical, staring at the paper she’d provided as if searching for a trap. Meri frowned, impatient, and set her hand on his, stilling his quill’s movement down the rows of text. “Is she offering a good deal that will let us help our people? These are things they need and can get more quickly and cheaply than otherwise, right?” 

“Yes. It appears so.” His answer came hesitantly, accompanied by further scrutiny of the paper. 

“Then we’ll take the offer. I’m inclined to trust her rather than turn away an offer of aid.” 

Teagan nodded, offering her a warm smile. “Of course, love, you’re right as always.” He looked up at Alexia. “You have a deal, Messere Alicant, and the people of Redcliffe and the Hinterlands are grateful for your assistance. Our seneschal will formalize the agreements for us to sign. When that business is completed, I would be honored if you joined us for dinner. As a relative rather than a trade partner.” 

Alexia bowed again, smiling broadly. “The pleasure and honor would be mine. I’ll leave you to your work and look forward to seeing you again this evening.” 

 

Much to Meri’s delight, that night's dinner marked the start of a longer visit as Alexia remained at Redcliffe to oversee the shipping and delivery operations. Meri had always regretted that her Warden duties and wedding planning kept her from getting to know her distant cousin last time Alexia was in Ferelden, and she wasn’t going to waste this chance to make up for it. They were both occupied with work during the day, but Meri made a point of carving time out of her evenings for chats with Alexia. Things were stiff and awkward at first as they tried to navigate the boundaries of talking to someone who was both family and a near stranger. Fortunately, some wine usually managed to smooth over the worst of it, occupying fidgeting hands and softening some of the walls Alexia seemed so inclined to retreat behind. 

After two weeks of evening chats about childhood memories, cultural differences between Ferelden and Hercinia, and the details of the ongoing rebuilding efforts, Meri realized that Alexia never mentioned her husband, only the family business. Meri frowned, wondering if her cousin found it too difficult to think about him when their work kept them so far apart for so long. She hated the separation every time Teagan went to negotiate disputes in the Bannorn or she got called to Amaranthine to offer advice to Nathaniel. And those trips only lasted a fortnight at most. The way Alexia described the work of running a trading company, Meri could imagine that she often went months without seeing her husband. How could she stand it? 

Even if she didn’t bring him up, she must be thinking about him. If their positions were reversed, if she were forced to be away from Teagan for so unbearably long, Meri would want a sympathetic ear, someone to pour out all of her misery to. She could offer that to Alexia. 

Looking over to where Alexia sat silently staring into the fire, Meri decided to risk asking. “Do you miss your husband?” 

Alexia looked over at her, blinking, and paused for a moment before answering. “I suppose so, in a way.” 

Meri frowned, surprised by the vague answer, and pressed further, encouraging her to open up. “Things are going well here. As much as I’ve enjoyed having you, I would understand if you want to go back to the Marches to see him.” 

From Alexia’s furrowed brow, that was clearly the wrong answer. She shook her head slowly. “That wouldn’t…” A soft huff of breath, not quite a laugh. “It wouldn’t matter. He’s been dead for two years.” 

Meri felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry! You never said, and I just assumed… What happened?” The tactless question came out before she could think better of it. 

“His ship was lost at sea. Most likely to Tal-Vashoth raiders, but we’ll never know for certain.” She shrugged. “It’s not uncommon, especially since he preferred to accompany his ships on important ventures.” 

Meri frowned, studying her cousin’s face, at a loss to understand her lack of emotion. She’d lost her husband. Even after two years, Meri couldn’t imagine being so calm and unaffected by that. 

The confusion must have been evident. Alexia gave her a half smile, knowing and worn and far older than she had any right to look. “He was a good man and an excellent businessman. I miss his insights and shrewd eye for a deal, although I’ve tried to run the company as well as I can in his absence. But if you’re asking whether I miss him personally…” She shrugged with that same faint smile. “It was always more of a merger than a marriage. My family’s trading connections joined to his family’s shipping prowess. We’ve all done very well from the combination.” 

“That seems…” Meri bit her lip, trying to find words that wouldn’t offend. 

“Cold? Calculated?” Alexia didn’t seem bothered in the least. “Arranged marriages for alliances aren’t a new concept, and they aren’t limited to the nobility, either.” 

Unsure what she should say on such a sensitive subject to a woman she was still getting to know, Meri let the subject drop, allowing Alexia to move the conversation back onto more comfortable ground. 

But after a few more minutes of discussing innocuous topics, Alexia returned to the subject of marriage. “It seems like you and Teagan are going about things all backwards.” 

Alexia’s statement caught Meri off guard, so personal after her earlier evasions. Her tone sounded more confused than critical, but Meri still felt her muscles tighten at the implied criticism. “Backwards how?” 

Alexia shook her head, hands spread as she tried to put her thoughts in words. “You seem so happy together. Infatuated, almost.” 

“There’s something wrong with me loving my husband?” Meri’s tone grew sharp, although she clamped her mouth shut before she could add the rest of her unkind thoughts: _because you didn’t love yours_. Alexia was not one of the vicious socialites of the court who had taken such delight in speculating over her divorce and remarriage. 

“No, of course there isn’t.” Alexia’s laugh tempered Meri’s building anger, blunting the edges of her sharp reactions. “I just always thought that sort of love was something a person grows out of.” She shrugged. “Falling recklessly in love, heedless of the consequences, is something that happens when a person’s young, before she has any sense to know better. Before she realizes it’s all just a pretty lie.” 

Meri prickled at the implied insult, the suggestion that she was acting like a foolish child in giving up the throne for happiness with the man she loved. She opened her mouth for a biting retort, but something in Alexia’s demeanor stopped her. Her cousin’s blonde head was bowed, eyes staring blankly as her fingers clutched too hard at the stem of her wine glass. That hadn’t been a condemnation of Meri. 

Heedless of her scrutiny, Alexia continued, raising her head and regaining control, a tightness lingering around her fixed smile. “Marriages between grown adults are about stability and practicality. Especially second marriages. But you two seem like you’re very much in love.” 

_Seem…_ “We are.” Meri fought the urge to grit her teeth, reminding herself that Alexia had no part in the rumors that had swirled around court at the divorce, her echoing of the gossip only an unfortunate coincidence. 

“I’m glad.” Alexia remained unruffled by her cousin’s steely tone. “It’s nice to see that sort of happiness. Surprising, maybe, but nice.” 

The conversation lapsed as Meri tried to gather her thoughts and unclench muscles tensed against an attack that had only been in her mind. When it resumed, Alexia seemed to have forgotten all about her odd line of questioning. 

But Meri hadn’t. There were things Alexia wasn’t saying, things she probably needed to say, and Meri would find out what they were. 

 

“You didn’t love your husband.” 

Alexia controlled her surprised reaction. She should have expected Meri had something in mind when she showed up to their evening chat with chilled, strong cider rather than the usual wine. She must have hoped that Alexia would drink more of the sweeter alcohol and that it would ease the conversation. She’d judged correctly on the first point but less so on the second. Sober or not, this wasn’t a topic Alexia wanted to discuss, but she could hardly object after how she’d pried into Meri’s marriage two nights ago. 

“He was a good man, and I respected him, but no. I didn’t love him.” Alexia wrapped her fingers more tightly around her glass before confessing the rest, something she’d never said aloud but that seemed like it needed to be said in this moment. She kept her tone light, as if it were unimportant. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’m suited for love. I’m much better with finances.” 

Meri frowned. “Does it have to be one or the other?” 

Alexia’s laugh felt hollow, forced. She wondered if Meri could tell. “I suppose not. I’ve met people who manage both. I just don’t think I’m one of them.” 

Meri chewed on her lip before speaking again. “What about before your husband? You talked about outgrowing love. It sounded like there might have been someone when you were younger.” 

The question felt like a blow, like a shield slamming into her chest and taking her breath away as strongly as the warm eyes of the man who held it. Alexia looked away, swallowing hard and fighting against her reaction at the sudden flash of unwelcome memory. She cursed herself for having spoken too freely in their previous conversation, for exposing the gap in her armor and opening herself up to this attack. 

Beside her, Meri sat patiently, expecting an answer and clearly content to wait until she got one. Blighted Fereldans, as stubborn as their beloved mabari. 

Squaring her shoulders, Alexia forced herself to answer, trying her hardest to keep the tremble from her voice and sound casual. “There was.” 

She blinked twice in rapid succession to clear the moisture welling in her eyes. It shouldn’t hurt after all this time. And it didn’t, not usually. But sitting here, with Meri, brought the past back in a way she hadn’t been prepared for when she decided to return to this grey-skied country. “Or at least I thought there was. But I was wrong. The man I fell in love with never existed.” 

Meri frowned. “I don’t think I understand. How can you love a person who doesn’t exist?” 

Alexia shrugged, not meeting her cousin’s eyes for fear of what Meri might see in her face. She exhaled a slow breath in a futile attempt to ease the tension in her throat. “When you think you know someone and you find out later that everything about him was a lie. That the person you knew had never been real.” 

Meri didn’t respond, and the silence stretched long enough that Alexia began to hope her cousin’s thoughts had wandered elsewhere, to a less difficult subject, something she could talk about without her chest feeling painfully hollow. Without wanting to run from the room to escape the past that pressed in on her too closely. 

“Alistair talked about you sometimes.” 

Alexia froze, unable to breathe at the sound of his name. Why would Meri bring him up now? Had she somehow given herself away in her foolish, weak fumbling? 

"I think he missed you after you left. He said he'd enjoyed spending time with you, that he could be himself. Just Alistair instead of the king." 

Alexia clenched her jaw, refusing to speak because she didn't trust what she would say. Or that she could talk about him without her voice breaking under the weight of the pain she refused to show. She’d expected she couldn’t come to Ferelden, to Redcliffe, without mention of the crown now and then, but she hadn't been prepared to be subjected to anything so personal. To hear Meri talk so casually about what he’d thought of her, that he'd blamed her for leaving when he hadn't cared how he'd hurt and lied to her. 

Meri continued. "So maybe it was like that for the man you loved, too, that the part of him you cared about was real, even if it wasn't what most people saw of him." 

Alexia swallowed hard, shoving down all of the things she couldn’t say, relegating the hurt to the distant past where it belonged. She needed to find her voice, to end this conversation before Meri stabbed any more deeply into wounds she’d thought long scabbed over. "It's a nice thought, and I appreciate you wanting to help. But no. He lied to me about too much for any of it to have been real." She waved a hand to brush away Meri's half formed protest, unable to withstand any more of her cousin’s attempts at helping. “It’s kind of you to care, but I don’t see any point to dredging it all up so many years later. I don’t expect I’ll ever see him again.”


	4. Chapter 4

Alistair’s biggest complaint during the divorce had been how easily Meri would be able to escape Denerim and life at court once she wasn’t queen. He’d muttered about this unfairness rather pathetically until Teagan, with a solemn expression and eyes sparkling with amusement, had issued him a standing invitation to stay at Redcliffe whenever he wanted to get away from politics - and could reasonably do so without causing a diplomatic incident. 

So Alistair showing up at the gate with no warning or fanfare had become fairly common in the months since Meri had relocated to Redcliffe. He always had an excuse about some formal or political situation he needed a break from, but Meri suspected Denerim had become rather lonely for him since she’d left. Without anyone who'd been his friend before his subject, the capital became a stifling prison of obligation. Alistair always arrived at Redcliffe with a sort of tension and stiffness that melted away quickly once he was among people who cared about him. 

Meri had been meeting with a local farmsteader when Alistair arrived at the gate. He beamed at the sight of her and then waited not terribly patiently until her conversation finished. 

"I need sanctuary." 

Well, that was a new opening, at least. Meri raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips to fight a smirk. “What have you done?" 

"Nothing yet, but if the Antivan ambassador requests another meeting with no real purpose, I'm going to..." He trailed off with a sigh. "I think I had the wrong idea. Never mind sending annoying diplomats to the Avvar. Can _I_ go join the Avvar? I hear they have lovely mountains and fishing and... bears." 

Smiling fondly, Meri took his arm and led him inside. "Why don't you stay here for a few days before you go to the Frostbacks to become a remote tribesman?" 

"I suppose I can spare the time. Since it's on the way." 

He allowed himself to be dragged along, still muttering about Antivans, as Meri found the housekeeper to have his usual room made up. 

 

Dinner that night was casual, the sort of escape from formality Alistair came to Redcliffe looking for. Without other guests to impress, they skipped the great hall, having dinner sent up to the arl's suite. In stark contrast to the hall’s long, formal banquet table, Meri and Teagan’s private dining area held a small, square table just large enough for one person at a side. With no head seat and no curious onlookers gawking at visiting royalty, dinner became a simple family ritual rather than an elaborate event. 

A private family dinner with her current and former husband probably ought to have been awkward or uncomfortable, but Meri had long since given up on worrying about it. Teagan and Alistair both seemed fine with the situation, so other than moderating her more affectionate impulses for the sake of Alistair’s feelings, Meri chose to simply relax and enjoy an evening with two of her favorite people in the world. 

She listened with fondness as Teagan spoke glowingly of the new colt his stablemaster was training, while Alistair enthused about the most recent litter of mabari pups whelped in the royal kennels. The renewal of a friendship that clearly meant the world to both of them had been one of the more surprising outcomes of her remarriage. The calm, happy ease of the evening, all three of them relaxed and comfortable together now that they’d worked past the guilt and regrets, made her wonder why it had taken so many years for her to realize she’d married a man she dearly loved but in the wrong way. 

A rustle at the door drew Meri’s attention, and she glanced up, expecting a servant asking when the kitchens should send up dessert. Instead, she saw her cousin through the partially open door, holding a sheaf of papers, results of the red lyrium survey she’d been conducting out in the Hinterlands. Alistair laughed suddenly at something Teagan said, and Alexia flinched, her face going pale. Head bowed and shoulders hunching over the papers clutched to her chest, she turned from the door and vanished from sight. 

Pieces clicking into place in her mind, Meri absently excused herself and rose from the table. 

Teagan caught her hand. “Is everything all right?” 

She squeezed his fingers gently before freeing her hand from his grip. “I need to take care of something. I shouldn’t be long. Don’t let Alistair eat all of the tarts while I’m gone.” 

As Meri hurried from the room, she heard Alistair eagerly ask, “There are tarts?” 

 

Meri caught up with Alexia just outside the door to her guest room. “There you are! I thought I saw you in the hall.” 

Alexia’s head rose, a slightly sickly smile on her face in response to Meri’s enthusiastic greeting. “Yes, I just got back. The trip took a bit longer than expected.” 

Turning away, she fumbled with the door latch for a moment before the door swung open. Alexia went straight to the small table she used as a desk, setting down her papers and sorting through them with an almost feverish, intense focus. 

Meri came in after her, closing the door with a soft click. “You could join us for dinner.” 

“I ate on the road.” Alexia didn’t raise her head as she lied, her voice even and smooth. 

Meri came to stand across the table from her, watching as Alexia straightened and shuffled pieces of parchment with hands that very carefully did not shake. Meri watched her for a while before speaking again, noting the tiny signs of distress -- every movement so tightly controlled -- that confirmed what she had glimpsed in the hall. 

“The man you were in love with, before you were married, the one you told me about. That was Alistair.” Meri didn’t bother making it a question. 

“No, it wasn’t.” Alexia’s flinch at his name would have been imperceptible if Meri hadn’t been looking for it. Her eyes remained fixed on her papers, as if the conversation was irrelevant, but her voice took on a raw edge that tore at Meri’s heart. “He was a nameless guard who made me laugh and never existed. Your former husband just sounds like him sometimes.” 

“Alexia, I’m sorry. I never…” 

“If you look at this cave system.” Alexia cut her off, pushing a sheet of parchment across the table. Meri glanced down reflexively, seeing a map marked with precise notations like those found on sailors’ charts. “The red lyrium deposits are much more extensive than we’d expected. At the estimated current rate of growth, it will endanger farmland and several homesteads by the spring thaw. I've prepared a list of those most at risk." 

Alexia shoved a stack of papers at her. "Teagan will want to see these. I should let you get back to your dinner." 

Meri hesitated, searching for any cracks in her cousin’s stone facade. Alexia’s formal, closed body language matched her deliberately cultivated distance of a decade earlier, not the friendship that had grown in these past few weeks. At least now she knew what had stood between them all those years ago. 

Meri took the papers and left Alexia to the solitude she clearly wanted. As she returned to dinner, she considered what to do with this new information. 

 

Two near identical looks of questioning concern greeted Meri when she returned to the dinner table. Smiling in reassurance, she resumed her seat between them and handed the papers to Teagan. “The red lyrium survey you’d asked for. It sounds like you were right to be concerned.” 

“There are times I would prefer not to be right.” Brow furrowing, Teagan began paging through the report. 

“Red lyrium survey?” Alistair attempted to peer over at what Teagan was reading, squinting at the upside down text across the table. When Teagan didn’t respond, absorbed in his reading, Alistair looked to Meri instead. 

"There are some sizeable deposits in the Hinterlands, and you know how it can grow when it's left alone." 

Alistair frowned, and Meri watched as he put back on the role of king. "How 'sizeable'? I thought the Inquisition had dealt with the worst of the red lyrium." 

Picking up her fork, Meri shook her head. "Teagan has the report; he can answer your questions. I'm going to finish eating before the food gets any colder." 

Grinning at her priorities, Alistair resumed his attempts at reading upside down, badgering Teagan with questions. Meri contentedly returned to the dinner she'd abandoned, listening as Teagan provided a summary of the report. 

Teagan’s description of the rate of red lyrium progression was interrupted by the arrival of the promised tarts, perfectly timed to coincide with Meri finishing the main course. Alistair lost interest in the lyrium report entirely as he stared raptly at the dessert platter being carried in. He grabbed for one immediately as they were set on the table, taking a large bite and closing his eyes as he savored it. Meri smiled at the contented noises he made as he chewed, exchanging an amused glance with Teagan who was holding back laughter. Shaking her head, she selected a tart of her own, taking a more delicate bite. Alistair’s theatrics aside, they were wonderful. 

Alistair finally swallowed and opened his eyes. “Someday I’m going to convince your pastry chef to come to Denerim and work in the palace so I can have these whenever I want.” 

Teagan chuckled. “You’re welcome to keep trying, but I think she’s happy working here.” 

“I may be giving her a raise to counter your offers.” Meri elbowed him playfully. “And using the tarts as bribery so you have to come visit.” 

Alistair laughed, and Meri had to fend him off as he attempted to steal the pastry from her plate in retaliation. 

Nibbling on a tart safely lifted from the main platter well away from their skirmish, Teagan shook his head with a half smile and turned his attention back to the report. As he paged through it, Alistair eventually abandoned his campaign to steal Meri's sweets and leaned across the table for a better view of the papers. 

When Teagan reached the map on the bottom of the pile, he paused, exhaling a startled huff of breath. Alistair raised his eyebrows. "Whoa..." 

Meri frowned, studying the map herself. "What's wrong? Is it that much worse than you expected?" She couldn’t entirely keep the concern out of her voice. 

Teagan took her hand in reassurance. "No, the map accurately reflects the report. It is, however, surprisingly thorough." 

Meri looked again, noting the level of detail in the sketch, every contour of the rock wall described in the careful lines. That would explain why Alexia had returned later than expected. 

"If I can't steal your pastry chef, do you think I can poach this scribe?" Alistair tilted his head as he tried to make out all of the details on the upside down map. 

Teagan smirked. “Again, I'm afraid you're bound for disappointment. This wasn’t done by a member of my staff. The author of this report is a Hercinian trader who offered to assist with the rebuilding. You'll have to negotiate with her directly, and as I said, she's Hercinian." 

Meri pursed her lips. "You know that doesn't mean anything to those of us who weren't raised in the Free Marches." 

Alistair nodded agreement, unable to contribute further with his mouth full of another pastry. 

Teagan offered an apologetic half smile to the pair of them. “We have a saying that it's impossible to get the better end of a deal with a Hercinian trader unless they choose to give it to you." He shrugged. “Which isn't unheard of. Many of them are ruthless at business but inclined to almost irrational generosity when something becomes personal." 

Meri nibbled at a tart, wondering if that explained her cousin’s unexpected offers to help the Hinterlands recover. 

Teagan chuckled at a sudden thought. "So I suppose you might have a chance at that, since you've at least met the woman. You remember Meriana’s cousin Alexia?" 

Meri searched for something in Alistair’s expression as he turned to her -- hope, guilt, anything that hinted Alexia’s feelings had been returned -- but all she found was surprise. "I didn't know you two were still in touch." 

"We weren't. I hadn’t heard from her in years until she showed up offering to supply our people for the winter." 

"Personal connections, I told you." Teagan gestured with a pastry to emphasize his point. 

Alistair looked thoughtful as he took the last tart from the platter. "Do you think I might cross paths with her while I'm here? Or are you going to have her constantly out drawing more ridiculously detailed maps?" 

Teagan stared at the sketch again. "It’s like a nautical chart, isn’t it? I'm almost surprised she didn't try to take depth soundings." 

Meri rolled her eyes and answered Alistair’s question. “She's usually in the training yard in the mornings. You could probably look for her there." 

Alistair nodded. “I think I will." 

Meri smiled, hopeful, as she finished the last of her tart, carefully keeping it out of Alistair’s reach, just in case.


	5. Chapter 5

Alexia hefted the greatsword in her hands, its weight reassuring. She closed her eyes and took deep, steadying breaths, trying to center herself, but her thoughts refused to still. Abandoning the attempts to find calm, she launched into her training exercises. 

How had she been so careless? Hearing him, so unexpectedly, she hadn’t been prepared for it to hurt that much. It shouldn’t have; she’d put this behind her years ago. But the suddenness had caught her off guard, startled a reaction from her. Even so, to show weakness over him in front of Meri, of all people… 

The practice blade cut deeply into the straw training dummy, and she felt a surge of grim satisfaction. If she couldn’t clear her emotions, at least she could channel them into a useful outlet. Teeth gritted and muscles tense with self-recrimination, she continued her efforts to massacre the mannekin, gradually starting to lose herself in the rhythm of attacks. 

“Lady Ehlana of the Flowers?” 

Her sword veered off its intended path and slammed hard into the support structure inside the dummy’s fake shoulder, the abrupt impact jarring her arms. She should have known peaceful escape through combat training would be too much to hope for. Of course he would find her here. 

But of all the foolish things they’d made up to avoid properly introducing themselves, why did he have to remember _that_ name, the one from her favorite childhood story, the beautiful noblewoman a young merchant’s daughter had dreamed of someday growing up to be? Perhaps a better question would be why she’d trusted that treasured girlish hope, even indirectly, to a man she barely knew anything about -- and turned out not to know at all. 

Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face him with a pleasant smile masking her inner turmoil. “Ah, the Comte de Gaperon, as I recall.” 

“I’m flattered your ladyship remembers me.” The genuine smile that lit up his face before he dropped into the overdone persona of the Comte caused a nearly physical pain in her chest. Maker’s breath, she never should have come back here. 

Alexia managed to keep a weak smile on her face. “I disarmed you and you managed to defeat me, quite soundly, with only a shield. It was a memorable performance.” 

“Would you do me the honor of a rematch, my lady?” 

That smile, the way he looked at her, expecting her to fall back into familiar patterns as if it hadn’t been ten years. As if everything between them hadn’t been a lie. 

“No.” Alexia turned away, setting down her practice blade with hands that suddenly shook too much to hold it steady. “I’m not a ‘lady’ and I never was. I have no interest in continuing this foolish game any longer. Your Majesty.” 

She heard a sigh, followed by the clatter of him setting down his practice gear. “You’re angry with me.” 

She wanted to deny it, to brush off the emotion into something bland and simple that would cause him to leave. But what came out instead was the truth, laden with more hurt than she’d wanted to show. “You lied to me.” 

“I didn’t. Not really.” He sounded so earnest, and she could picture the way his forehead would crease as his brows drew together. “I never said anything that wasn’t true. Other than the obviously made up names. I just… didn’t tell you everything.” 

Alexia folded her arms, steadfastly refusing to look at him. “A lie of omission is still a lie. Especially on that scale.” 

“Alexia, I…” He sighed again, and she tried to ignore the sympathetic tug in her chest. “I wasn’t trying to lie to you. It was just nice to have someone who didn’t know who I was, who didn’t expect me to be… someone I’m not.” 

What had Meri said, that he’d liked spending time with her because he could be himself? That the man she’d known had been more real than the role he lived in at court? Grudgingly, she turned back to face him, to see a look of frustration mingled with regret. Uncertain what to say, she kept her arms folded and waited. 

“It turns out I was right not to tell you, though.” His voice took on a caustic edge that surprised her. “You were my friend as long as I was a nobody, but a king doesn’t have friends. Only subjects and advisers and sycophants.” 

It had never occurred to her that he might have been drawn to her because standing at the center of the whirling madness of court had been every bit as lonely as hovering ignored on the periphery. 

“As soon as you found out I was the king, you left.” 

The hurt in his eyes, the familiar vulnerability and openness, drew out matching candor from her, a truth she hadn’t ever planned on admitting. “I didn’t leave because you were the king.” She unfolded her arms, hands hanging uselessly by her sides. “Alistair, I left because you were married.” 

He blinked, startled enough by her use of his name that it took a moment for the rest of her words to sink in. She could tell when they did, though, confusion melting into a dawning understanding, followed by a whole new sort of confusion. 

He looked for a moment like he thought she was joking and then like he wanted to make a joke of it, a wry curl to his lips. Alexia clenched her hands tightly, bracing for his laughter. If he mocked her for this, she would never forgive him, never trust him again with so much as a word, never mind painful, close-guarded secrets. 

But the jest never came. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and the nascent smirk vanished in its wake, leaving something more open and uncertain. His eyes studied her face, and she held herself very still under the weight of his gaze. Finally, he tilted his head, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he attempted a tentative, nervous smile. “Should we, um, talk?” 

How had she ever thought this man could be cold, distant, manipulative? 

How had she thought she could walk away from this second chance? Alexia shook her head with a soft smile. “I’d rather spar.” 

She reached for her discarded practice blade and watched Alistair’s face light up as he grinned and picked back up his sword and shield. 

 

Meri looked up from the documents on her desk, distracted by sounds filtering in through the open window. She looked over at Teagan, seated at his desk across their shared office, his head bent over his own pile of paperwork. He seemed entirely absorbed in his work, but Meri simply couldn’t focus. 

Eventually noticing either her eyes on him or, more likely, the absence of her scratching quill, Teagan glanced up. “Something wrong, dearest?” 

Meri shook her head with a wistful smile. “Not at all. Just listening. It’s been a while since I’ve heard this.” 

Teagan cocked his head, listening also. “Arms training? We can leave the window open over the practice yard more often if you miss the clash of steel.” 

“No, not combat training. Alistair laughing like he means it.”

Alexia smoothed her skirt, suddenly nervous as she stood outside the door to the arl's suite. Maker’s breath, what was wrong with her? It was only dinner. 

She’d spent far more of the day at the practice yards than originally intended. Sparring, reminiscing, laughing, catching up on the events of the past decade. Talking openly, with no secrets between them, for the first time ever. If she'd thought Alistair was charming and funny before... 

Okay, perhaps this wasn’t only dinner. It was dinner with _him_. 

Hours in the practice yards had left her a grimy mess, coated in sweat and dust. Bathing before dinner had been necessary to make her presentable and fit for any sort of polite company. Then she'd spent far too long fussing over her appearance, like an anxious girl again, and now she'd ended up late for dinner. 

Which would not be improved by hovering in the corridor fretting. Smoothing her skirt again, she forced aside her nerves and entered. 

The others were seated already, of course, gathered on three sides of a small, square table. Her eyes went to Alistair at once, and the way he looked at her -- slightly dazed, like the rest of the room had ceased to exist -- made her feel suddenly warm… and glad she’d taken the time to do something with her hair. 

"There you are." Meri's smile of welcome was as bright as always, and Alexia felt a pang of guilt for how coldly she’d treated her cousin the previous evening. She began to apologize for her tardiness, at the very least, but Meri only grinned. "We weren't waiting long, but you should be glad you got here when you did. It can be dangerous to keep Grey Wardens from their meals. Right, Alistair?" 

"Hmm? Oh, yes.” He nodded, smiling at Alexia. “She's right. You look beautiful.” 

Alexia felt her cheeks flush. Teagan’s rich laughter nearly drowned out Meri’s giggle. Alistair blinked and looked at them in bewilderment, a tinge of pink creeping across his face as well. 

Teagan managed to rein in his mirth and provide an explanation. “Not what was asked, but that doesn’t make you wrong.” 

Teagan’s smooth charm sounded like the usual courtly flattery, polite but meaningless. Which only reinforced how much Alistair’s awkward fumbling hadn’t. Feeling her cheeks warm further, Alexia slipped into the seat at the side of the table left empty, across from Teagan. As she sat down to dinner with Meri to her right and Alistair on her left, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d somehow fallen into the Fade during the previous night and this entire day had been a dream. 

Thankfully, servants arrived with dinner shortly, and as Meri predicted, both Grey Wardens were soon too preoccupied with eating to pay attention to much else. Alexia exchanged a few amused glances with Teagan during the course of the meal, his tolerant grin suggesting that being disregarded in favor of food had become a normal part of his daily life. 

Of course, Alistair’s preoccupation with the meal gave her more opportunity to study him surreptitiously, sneaking glances out of the corner of her eye. He’d, not surprisingly, washed and changed following their extended sparring session, too. His hair was still damp from the bath, and the ends curled ever so slightly against his neck. She needed to stop thinking about tracing her fingers along those curved lines and focus on the stew. Not only was it safer mental territory, but it also deserved the attention. Savory and hearty, probably venison, she found it welcome after a day of unaccustomed exertion. 

As the plates were cleared away and they waited for dessert, Alistair rolled his shoulders and groaned. “I’ve gotten soft, sitting on a throne for too long. One day with a sword in my hand for a few hours, and I hurt everywhere.” 

Alexia grimaced in sympathy. “I’m just grateful that dinner could be eaten with a single utensil. I don’t think I could have managed a fork and knife.” 

Alistair frowned, studying her appraisingly. His gaze focused on her left arm and the way she held it somewhat stiffly against her. “I hurt you?” 

“No, it’s fine, just my wrist.” She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything. It was that block I got up barely in time. I wasn’t properly braced.” 

His frown remained in place, unconvinced. “May I see it?” 

Alistair extended a hand, palm up, and Alexia hesitantly placed her sore wrist in his grip. His warm, calloused fingers explored her arm gently, manipulating the joint and grimacing when she winced. He finally seemed satisfied, pressing his lips together and nodding as he looked back up to her face. “It doesn’t seem to be anything serious.” 

“I told you. I only wrenched it.” He hadn’t let go of her arm, and his fingers traced delicate circles across the back of her hand in a way that made it very hard to think. She stared into his eyes, unable to look away as her mouth continued rambling on. “If it still hurts in the morning, I’ll wrap it, and it will be fine.” His thumb stroked across her palm, and she hoped her sudden intake of breath escaped notice. She swallowed, trying to collect herself and slow her pulse. “I doubt I’ll be holding a sword for the next day or two, though.” 

“That’s all right.” Alistair answered, his voice soft as he continued to absently caress her hand. His eyes never left her face, and she started to think she could melt under the force of his attention. Or drown. “We’ll find something else to do.” 

Teagan’s muffled snort startled them both. Alistair quickly released his hold on her hand, and Alexia drew her arm back rapidly. She ducked her head, feeling her cheeks burning. Alistair ran his hand awkwardly through his hair, his face going red as he muttered. “I didn’t mean it like _that_.” 

Meri giggled, and Alexia risked a glance up Alistair, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hands. He grinned at her bashfully, then with a mischievous glint in his eye, added in a quiet undertone, “Probably.” 

Alexia’s eyes widened, and she stared at him in shock. Yesterday she’d been afraid to be in the same room with him, and now he was… he was… he was saying things like that. Even if he didn’t mean it -- he couldn’t mean it, could he? No, of course that wasn’t meant seriously, but even the fact that he’d joke about it… 

“Lexia?” A hand on her other arm drew her out of the sudden paralysis, and she turned to see Meri, brow furrowed with concern. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t tease.” She squeezed Alexia’s arm briefly before letting go. 

Alexia took a steadying breath. “No, I’m sorry. It’s fine.” She chided herself for overreacting to a harmless joke. “I’m just not used to…” Waving a hand dismissively, she forced a smile onto her face. “Trade negotiations involve rather less flirtation than nobility are accustomed to.” 

Teagan made a thoughtful noise. “I think you’ll find that varies depending on the noble.” He cast a meaningful glance at Alistair, whose ears were still rather pink as he carefully avoided looking at her. 

Mercifully, Alexia was spared any further conversation by the arrival of dessert. Once the pie had been distributed, the topic of discussion became more practical. Teagan deftly steered them back into safer waters as he asked Alexia to elaborate on details of the red lyrium survey she’d conducted -- Maker, had that only been yesterday? -- and the mood grew serious. 

“I still say it’s the Inquisition’s problem.” Meri set her fork down with a decisive clink of silver on china. “If the Inquisitor wants the authority of a government, she can have the responsibility of one, too.” 

Alistair raised a hand defensively. “I’m not disagreeing, but even if I do make it her problem, I need to know just how big of a problem I’m handing over.” He frowned. “I’d like to see the main red lyrium vein myself while I’m here.” 

“I could show you.” The words came out before Alexia knew she intended to speak, but she brazened on with her inadvertent suggestion. “It’s an easy trip in a day, assuming I can borrow Duchess again.” 

“My stables are entirely at your disposal.” She thought Teagan’s beard hid a hint of a smirk, but his voice sounded pleasant enough. 

Alistair regarded her more thoughtfully, a careful distance in his tone. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate that.” 

Alexia shrugged lightly, offering him a tentative smile. “I might as well, since arms practice is off the table thanks to my wrist.” 

“That’s settled, then.” Meri beamed brightly. “I’ll tell the chef to pack a lunch and make sure the stables have Duchess and…” She tapped a finger on her lips thoughtfully, then grinned. “Archdemon seems fitting, I think. And he likes following Duchess. I’ll be sure they’re ready in the morning. For now, it’s been a long day, and I’m more than ready for bed.” 

The remains of dinner were cleared away quickly, and the gathering broke up, Alistair and Alexia leaving as Meri and Teagan retired to their private rooms deeper in the suite. When they reached the hallway, Alistair caught Alexia’s elbow before she could turn away towards her room, quickly taking his hand back once he had her attention. 

“I’m sorry about earlier. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.” He huffed a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve always been pretty terrible at this.” 

Alexia tilted her head with a faint smile, put more at ease by his uncertainty. “Being bad at it is better than having no experience at all, so you’re still ahead of me, I think.” 

He blinked, brows lowering and lips parting. Before he could ask any awkward questions, Alexia squeezed his hand quickly. “Good night, Alistair. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Turning, she hurried to the sanctuary of her room, welcoming the quiet solitude and a chance for her thoughts to catch up with the day’s events.


	6. Chapter 6

Alistair should have remembered that his definition of “in the morning” and Meri’s had never quite lined up. Even during the Blight, when sleep involved nightmares and cold, hard ground, she’d taken forever to get awake and moving. Now that she had a warm, fluffy bed… Well, he shouldn’t be surprised to be hanging around in the stables for a while, waiting for her and making the grooms nervous. 

Not that he minded the opportunity to spend a few hours in the stables. Horses made for remarkably good company, almost as forgiving and accepting as mabari. They listened and never judged, and their affection could easily be earned with pats and the occasional treat. By the time Meri showed up, Alistair had located Archdemon -- a grey who proved to be surprisingly gentle, given the name -- curried the straw dust from his coat, and established a rapport with the aid of an apple surreptitiously swiped from the kitchens. It had been a peaceful way to spend an hour, since the grooms had largely settled on ignoring him rather than figuring out what to do with a king who wanted to curry his own horse. 

“I should have known I’d find you here.” 

Alistair turned to see Meri, followed by a stablehand carrying tack. “I figured I ought to come make friends if ‘Demon and I were going to be spending the day together.” 

The groom set down the tack and went to get Duchess. Alistair led ‘Demon from his stall to put his tack on. The groom returned to saddle Duchess, continuing to ignore the anomaly of royalty usurping his job. 

When the stablehand finished and left with a polite nod, Meri tied on the saddlebags she’d brought in, presumably the promised picnic lunch. “Are you all ready for a fun outing?” 

Alistair sighed, recognizing the teasing under her cheerful tone. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

“You could let one of the grooms take over.” 

“I can handle cinching a saddle.” Alistair shot her a glare. “The horsey parts of the day are what I’m most confident about, thank you.” 

Meri frowned. “I thought you and Alexia were getting along at dinner last night.” 

“So did I, but…” He tied off the saddle girth and drew up short, at a loss for what to do now that he’d finished the task keeping him occupied. “That doesn’t really make much difference. Because I’m just going to say something stupid or...” 

“If it helps any, I’m fairly certain she likes being around you. Saying stupid things or not.” Meri’s grin tried to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t brush this off so easily. 

“I really like her. Or at least I’m pretty sure I could.” Groaning he flopped down to sit on a tack box, leaning forward to put his head in his hands and tangling his fingers in his hair in frustration. “But I don’t know what I’m doing, and even if I did, I’d only screw it up anyway. The one relationship I’ve had, I just stumbled into it sideways. And then managed to make a total mess of it.” 

“Oh, Alistair…” The wood creaked as Meri sat down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, her voice soft and sympathetic. “We didn’t work out, but that wasn’t anything you did wrong.” 

Oh, sure, of course it wasn’t. She’d been miserable married to him purely through coincidence. Nothing to do with him. Alistair snorted, a hint of a bitter, disbelieving laugh. 

Meri sighed, resting her chin on the hand on his shoulder, leaning her head against his. “If anything, I feel like it was my fault. I sometimes think the entire problem came from me convincing myself the love I had for my best friend was the same as the love I should have for a husband. Then I was always gone, finding reasons to be away, to avoid dealing with the mistake I’d made.” 

“No.” He sat up, wrapping an arm around her to keep her close as his sudden shift dislodged her. “Meri, no.” Her emerald eyes shone wetly, and he met her gaze intently so she had no choice but to listen. “You’re not allowed to blame yourself.” 

Meri smiled weakly, bringing a hand up to brush at her cheek as if afraid a tear had slipped out. “Then neither are you.” She ran fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down. “You were sweet and caring, and I’ll always love you. Just not… that way, as it turns out.” 

He chuckled, his throat feeling unexpectedly tight. He doubted he could let go of the guilt quite that easily, but having her forgiveness might at least make a start. “So now that that’s settled, are we done being sappy for the morning?” 

Meri paused her finger-combing to rap him lightly on the top of his head like he’d seen her do with an errant mabari pup. “Not until you accept that our divorce wasn’t anyone’s fault and stop beating yourself up over it. We’re much better as friends, and I cherish that. You can’t let how our marriage ended stand in the way of you finding happiness.” 

Alistair smirked. Meri always did have a tendency towards dramatic overstatement. “I’m happy. I promise. I have an entire kingdom, and when it’s not tolerable, I can run away to spend time with my two best friends in the world, both of whom smile a lot more than they used to. What’s not to be happy about?” 

Smiling fondly, Meri let her hand drop to his shoulder, squeezing it. “I love that you’re happy for Teagan and me, and I love having you visit us so often.” She enfolded him in one of her impulsive, tight hugs. “But you deserve to be happy for yourself, too.” 

Alistair wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace for a moment before Meri pulled away to look him in the eye, her expression almost painfully sincere. “If you think Alexia might be a chance at that happening, you need to give it a try.” 

He responded with a wry grin as he stood and moved to calm the horses, who had begun to fidget during the wait. “Which brings us back to where we started. I don’t suppose you have any advice on how I should do that without, you know, being too much of an idiot.” 

“Maybe she likes idiots.” Meri grinned impishly, sticking her tongue out when he glared at her. 

“You’re very helpful. I don’t know why I don’t just turn all of my problems over to you.” 

“Don’t you? I thought that’s what being a king’s advisor meant.” Her unrepentant grin softened. “Really, Alistair, she likes _you_. She liked you back before she knew about all the titles and heroism, just that you made her laugh.” 

Of course Meri knew about that. Why wouldn’t she? Someone really could have bothered to tell him. Not that he’d have known what to do with the information anymore than he did now. "And that I didn't mind her attacking me with a giant sword." 

"Mind? As I recall you complained that you missed it after she left." Meri spread her hands. “I don’t have any advice because I don’t think you need it. Except… Talk to her. I mean really talk. I think there have been enough secrets and misunderstandings between you two.” 

That much he definitely couldn’t argue with. 

 

The trip started out well enough. Meri saw them off. Her grin remained a bit wide for Alistair’s comfort, but she kept her thoughts to herself, thank the Maker for small mercies. 

As they set out, Alexia asked if he minded keeping a slow pace, her eyes downcast as she admitted she’d requested Duchess because she couldn't manage a horse more spirited than the gentle mare. 'More at home on the deck of a ship than the back of a horse' was how she’d put it. Alistair agreed easily, being in no particular hurry. They talked about horses for a while, but the conversation died out quickly, and by the time they reached the outskirts of Redcliffe, an awkward silence descended. 

Alistair soothed 'Demon, the horse having picked up on his agitation as he searched for something to say. Maker’s breath, he'd talked to Alexia for hours yesterday. Why had he completely lost the ability to speak to her now? Sounding like an idiot at dinner last night probably hadn’t helped. 

“I need to apologize." Alexia spoke before he came up with anything. "I spent a long time angry with you for something that wasn't your fault." 

Alistair grinned reflexively, glad she’d started talking, even if he had no idea what she could have to apologize for. “Are you sure? Most people seem to think I’ve usually done something to deserve being yelled at.” 

She shook her head with a faint echo of a smile. “It might have been easier if you’d told me who you were from the beginning, but no, it wasn’t your fault.” 

Oh, right, _that_. Somehow, after yesterday’s sparring session and dinner, he’d managed to forget about their complicated history. That for as long as he’d been hurt about the friend who’d left him, she’d been angry at the man who lied to her. But she didn’t seem angry now, more like apologetic. And maybe a little bit sad. 

Alexia looked away, her eyes distant as she stared into the past. “You have to understand, when I first came to Denerim, I didn’t know anyone. I spent a lot of time feeling invisible, unimportant. It was… lonely. Then I met you.” 

A faint, wistful smile softened her face at that memory, and Alistair marveled at how he could have made such a difference to her. 

“You were wonderful.” She looked over at him, shy and hesitant. “Funny, charming, patient. You listened to me and cared about what I thought. Everything I could have hoped for in an only friend.” 

Alistair gaped, at a loss for how to respond to such a sincere outpouring of compliments. “Are you sure I didn’t hit your head with one of those shield bashes and scramble your memories? Most people tend to describe me as annoying, dim-witted, that sort of thing.” 

“They’re wrong.” As if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She looked away again, suddenly intent on the road ahead. “But I overreached. I tried to turn that friendship into something more, and I felt betrayed when you weren’t able to meet my unreasonable expectations. That was unfair of me, and I’m sorry.” 

Void take it, what was he supposed to say to that? Meri said he and Alexia should talk, but he’d thought maybe they could ease into it, not jump right in with the confessions.

Of course, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Alexia’s preferred opening move when sparring involved a greatsword aimed at her opponent’s face; this felt like the conversational equivalent. And just like in the practice yard, there was no help for it but to respond in kind, every bit as honest as she’d been. 

Gathering his thoughts, he looked over at Alexia, her posture so stiff and rigidly controlled that Duchess was beginning to fidget with transferred tension. Braced for a blow, like she’d left an opening in her guard and was waiting to see if he’d take advantage of it. A part of her was still waiting for him to hurt her again. Maker’s breath, he'd need to be careful. No more stupid jokes like at dinner. 

“I’m glad you’re not still mad at me, but I’m sorry my -- what did you call it? -- lies of omission hurt you. I hadn’t thought…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair and grinning sheepishly. “That particular complication never occurred to me when I decided to stop being the king for a few hours each day. I’m not used to women being interested in me.” 

Alexia relaxed as he spoke, but she frowned skeptically. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Fair point.” Alistair laughed. “Every foreign diplomat I’ve met with over the past six months has told me about the charms of his or her sister, daughter, niece, cousin, mistress, empress, or cat’s best friend. I feel like I’m being aggressively courted by half the single women in Thedas. But that’s about the crown. Women aren’t interested in me for _me_.” 

“I am.” 

Again, she said it like it was obvious. Like it would be natural for a gorgeous, clever, strong woman to profess her attraction to him as a way to pass the time on the road. She said it like he should already know, and while maybe he'd hoped, that wasn't the same as believing. 

Or her flat out telling him. Maker’s breath, this woman was going to kill him if she kept saying things like that. 

"I, um... okay, right. Except you." Alistair shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I’m resisting asking why, because I’m afraid you’d tell me.” He grinned at her. “Royalty hear honesty so rarely that I’ve forgotten what it sounds like. I’m not sure I can handle this much of it at one time.” 

She laughed with a relaxed shrug, returning his smile with a warmth he could almost feel. “I’ll try to keep your majesty’s delicate state in mind for the rest of the day. What would you like me to lie about first?”


	7. Chapter 7

They managed to find a surprisingly nice picnic spot for lunch, on a hillside under one of the few remaining older trees that showed little signs of damage from the skirmishes that had ravaged the area following the Conclave. Alistair removed the horses’ bits so they could forage, while Alexia stretched her sore legs and retrieved the promised lunch from the saddlebags. 

As she began arranging things on the grass, he heard her laugh to herself. “Oh, Maker, Meri…” 

“What did she do this time?” Alistair dropped to sit next to her, careful to avoid the fruit and cheese she’d already laid out on a cloth. 

Alexia held up a wineskin and two wooden cups. “That depends on how you feel about cider.” 

Alistair studied the wry twist to her lips. “I’m wondering if the better question is how _you_ feel about cider.” 

Her smirk confirmed his suspicions. “Meri’s discovered my weakness for sweets.” She laughed, ducking her head and brushing back a stray lock of hair from her face. “She exploited that knowledge to pry secrets out of me over cider. I assume she packed this to give you the same opportunity.” 

“After this morning, are there any secrets left?” He grinned, faltering when her smile faded. 

Her gaze slid away, eyes growing distant. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said…” 

“No, don’t apologize.” He took her hand, stroking his fingers over hers, mapping out her sword calluses. “I didn’t say I minded having a beautiful woman shower me with compliments.” 

“It wasn’t off-putting?" She met his eyes sidelong, head turned partly away like a skittish horse. 

“Confusing maybe. Unexpected certainly. But no, not upsetting. At all. The opposite of that, even." 

Alexia nodded, some of the tension leaving her, then paused for a moment before turning to face him, hesitant and vulnerable. “Beautiful?" 

"Of course." He held her hand more tightly, trying to match her casual honesty. “I said that last night, didn’t I? Outside of my head even. I distinctly remember Teagan mocking me for it." 

She laughed, and he thought the sound might be more intoxicating than the cider. 

“I wasn’t sure it meant anything." Alexia shrugged. “I'm not used to court manners. I don’t know how to be a flirt or a coquette." 

"Does anyone outside of Orlais know how to be a coquette? I think they made it up to confuse the rest of us." 

He could see the smile tugging at her pursed lips as she tried to glare at him. That mixture of amusement and annoyance looked good on her. He’d have to see if he could provoke it more often. 

"My point was, I'm a trader. That's what I know how to do: lay out what I want and what I have to offer." She exhaled in a huff that was almost a laugh. “My marriage was a business negotiation. I don't know what the proper rules are for courtship or romance, all of the hints and guessing." She cast him a shy smile. "But for the first time, I think I'd like to figure it out." 

Alistair marveled at the way she looked at him, sincere and the tiniest bit afraid, as if he were expecting her to live up to some secret set of standards she didn’t know how to meet. As if he were special enough to worry about losing if she got it wrong. 

"I don't know what the proper rules are either, but it doesn't matter. It's already far too late for that." He grinned at her sudden look of concern, stroking reassuringly at the hand he still held. “I sprained your wrist yesterday, and today we're on a romantic outing to see corrupted, infectious crystals that like to consume people." 

She laughed, startled but sounding relieved as well. "When you put it that way..." 

He nodded. “We're so far off the normal scripts that there's no point worrying about what we _should_ be doing." 

Alexia softened, giving him a warm smile as she unconsciously threaded her fingers with his. “So we're free to make up our own rules." 

Alistair ran his thumb along the edge of her hand. “I'd say we're obligated to." 

They sat in silence for a while, holding hands and grinning at each other, giddy and shy and hopeful, before Alexia reluctantly pulled her fingers free and handed him a slice of apple. 

"I've been told it's a bad idea to keep Grey Wardens from their meals." 

Alistair took the fruit and bit off half of it, suddenly aware he was starving. He chewed rapidly and swallowed. "Good advice. Where did you hear that?" 

“Last night at dinner." She smirked, and Maker’s breath, he needed to stop paying quite so much attention to the way her lips moved. "I don't think you were listening at the time." 

"Sorry, what?" 

She laughed again, her head tilting back and exposing the lines of her throat. Her unguarded happiness was breathtaking, and Alistair knew that he would do everything he could to hear her laugh like this as often as possible. 

 

The sun stood barely a handsbreadth above the horizon when they returned to Redcliffe, the horses ambling along at a sedate pace Alexia was grateful for. The presence of the red lyrium vein had made her skin crawl every bit as much as when she'd first seen it, but otherwise the day had been perfect. Alistair -- the real Alistair, now that she could finally see all of the sides of him -- proved to be everything she’d remembered and more: caring, funny, easy to talk to, committed to his people, passionate about doing what he felt was right. 

Glancing over at him, his features gilded by the evening sun, Alexia couldn’t fathom how she’d been fortunate enough to find him again. The idea that he might return her interest made even less sense, but the day with him had left her too deliriously happy to question it. 

As they passed through the gate into the courtyard, the horses’ hoofbeats switched from the dull thud of impacts on dirt to the ringing strike of metal on flagstone. Duchess perked up, head raised and ears forward as she steered towards the mounting rail, doubtless eager to get this novice rider off her back. Alistair guided ‘Demon alongside her, then dropped easily off his mount to tether both of the horses to the rail. 

“Need a hand down?” Alistair grinned up from beside her left stirrup, one hand extended. 

Alexia felt a flash of embarrassment at the assumption she couldn’t manage such a simple thing on her own. He made everything to do with horses look so easy; it wasn’t her fault she’d never had a chance to learn how to ride. She knew she hadn't made a good impression in that regard, starting the day with a confession that she couldn’t manage anything beyond a docile mare trained to carry a child. But she wanted him to think of her as competent rather than helpless and inept. "I can get off of a horse, thank you." 

Ignoring the warning protests of her sore muscles, Alexia pulled her feet free from the stirrups, swung one leg over the horse's back and slid down its side, resenting her awkward clumsiness in comparison to Alistair’s practiced grace. He could hardly be impressed with her now. 

The instant her boots hit the flagstones -- the impact hard, too hard -- Alexia knew she'd made a mistake. Her cramping legs buckled, refusing to support her weight, and she continued her inelegant slide to the ground. 

Alistair caught her before the flagstones could. Instead of collapsing on the hard stone, she found herself encircled by his arms, her hands clutching reflexively at his shirt. 

“Getting off the horse isn’t the problem; gravity usually handles that part.” Alistair’s grin held warmth rather than mockery. 

“So I noticed.” This close to him, further words deserted her as she was captivated studying his face, cataloging his features and comparing the details to her memory. Strong jawline with a hint of golden-copper stubble from a long day. Lips set in a gentle, teasing grin that she found achingly familiar. Faint lines around his eyes and brow, far more than she remembered and not enough of them from smiling, too many from worry. 

Without thinking, she raised one hand, wanting to run her fingers over his forehead to smooth them away. She caught herself before she could do something so intimate and presumptuous, and her hand fluttered awkwardly for a moment before coming to rest on the safer territory of his shoulder. 

“Are you all right now?” Alistair’s voice was soft, barely more than a low whisper. 

“I… think so, yes.” Her legs felt more secure beneath her than when she’d first tried to stand, less prone to buckle, and her current dizzy lightheadedness had nothing to do with the near fall. 

“Good.” He made no move to release her. 

As Alistair continued to press her tight against him, Alexia became aware of the warmth seeping into her from the contact, the solid muscle of his chest under her hand. Gradually, his hold around her waist shifted into something more like an embrace, one arm drifting up her back, his hand coming to rest between her shoulderblades, toying with the loose ends of her hair. And Maker, the way he looked at her, wonder and disbelief, his eyes studying her face with an intensity that would have embarrassed her if it weren’t tempered with awe. Alexia could scarcely breathe, captivated by his nearness and afraid that a sudden move would cause this impossible, perfect moment to vanish like a soap bubble. 

“Ah, you’ve finally returned.” Teagan’s voice startled Alexia, and she felt Alistair tense as well. “I told Meriana I heard horses in the courtyard. Did everything go all right? I was afraid I’d need to send out search parties.” 

Alexia felt more than heard Alistair’s chuckle, a soft huff of breath accompanied by a wry twist to his lips. Loosening his hold, he took a half step back, making sure Alexia was steady on her feet before he released her entirely. 

“We’re fine, uncle, but your arling may not be for long unless the lyrium growths are dealt with.” The mask of kingship settled over Alistair’s features as he turned away with a thoughtful frown. He started towards the stairs to the main keep entrance, and his voice took on a crisp tone of someone used to giving instructions. “I need to borrow an inkwell, a pen, and a courier who knows the way to Skyhold. Also paper, although I won’t be returning that when I’m finished with it.” 

“It’s that bad?” The arl sounded alarmed, as if this were a surprise, and Alexia felt a sudden surge of annoyance - at his lack of faith in her report, of course, not his ill-timed arrival. 

“It will be if something isn’t done about it soon.” Alistair’s decisive stride drew up short at the foot of the stairs, and he turned back, looking towards Alexia with a wistful, apologetic smile. “I’ll see you at dinner?” 

Flustered, she nodded. “Of course.” 

“Good.” His smile broadened for a moment before he turned back to Teagan and his duties. 

Alexia watched as the pair of them disappeared up the stairs, trying to escape the feeling of loneliness as her unexpected happiness trickled away. She shivered in the suddenly cool evening air. 

An irritated tsking noise drew her attention, and Alexia looked over to see Meri standing with her arms folded over her chest. She must have arrived along with Teagan, although Alexia hadn’t noticed her until now. Not that she had been paying that much attention to her surroundings. 

Meri turned to walk towards her, and Alexia flinched at her pursed lips and the annoyance flashing in her eyes. She hadn’t thought Meri disapproved of her feelings for Alistair, but she had been married to him for a decade, and he was a king who doubtless deserved better than a foreign widow. Today had been nice, but maybe she was fooling herself into thinking that her second chance was any more possible than the first had been. 

Just as Meri rounded the mounting rail that stood between them, she cast a glance over her shoulder at the staircase, shaking her head. Then Meri turned back to greet her with a sympathetic grimace, and Alexia realized with a start that Meri’s annoyance was directed at her husband. “If I’d realized we were interrupting…” She shrugged with a sigh, then smiled brightly. “Come on, let’s get you dressed for dinner. I have a gown in mind.” 

Alexia blinked at the sudden reversal, taking a hesitant step toward her cousin’s outstretched hand. “Thank you for the offer, but it’s not necessary. I brought my own wardrobe, after all.” 

“No, it’s definitely necessary.” Meri caught her arm deftly, steering them across the courtyard. “This gown will be perfect on you. And you’ll have to borrow a necklace. I think a gold one, to highlight your hair. Oh, I wonder if we’ll have time to do something with your hair. Up, I think.” 

Her cousin’s chatter continued, the wave of enthusiasm carrying Alexia along as they ascended the stairs. When they reached the landing and she thought she could get a word in, Alexia demurred, overwhelmed by the fuss being made over her. 

Meri wouldn’t hear it. Hands placed on her hips, she fixed Alexia with a stern look. “You are going to let me help get you ready for dinner tonight, and that’s final.” A sudden impish smile caused her eyes to sparkle. “I want to see how long you can make Alistair speechless this time. I’m betting it could hit two full minutes if we work at it.”


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days passed in a blur for Alistair, as he divided his time between managing a plan for dealing with the red lyrium deposits and trying to bridge ten years of misunderstanding with Alexia. 

The more he looked into the red lyrium situation, the more alarming it became. If they hadn’t caught it now, if it had been left alone for even a few more months, there would probably have been casualties, both from contact with the lyrium itself and from starvation over the winter as crop fields were tainted. Thank Andraste the vein had grown in an arling run by someone as conscientious as Teagan, who had detected the problem early. Before it erupted into a full-fledged crisis. 

Unfortunately, Alistair could only run so much of the government from Redcliffe. To stay ahead of managing this potential hazard, to make sure there weren’t any similar crystals quietly growing elsewhere in the kingdom, he needed the full resources of the crown. He needed to be in Denerim, not lingering around the Hinterlands pretending he had the choice to take a vacation. As much as he would have liked to stay longer, hiding from his responsibilities and pursuing an unexpected chance at happiness, that had never really been an option. He’d known from the day Meri put him on the throne that the needs of the Fereldan people would always come ahead of his own wants. 

Three days after seeing the red lyrium veins, Alistair announced over dinner he would be leaving for the capital the next morning. The tone of the meal switched abruptly, from a casual meal among friends to a logistics planning session. Teagan offered the loan of a horse, a small delegation of guards, and a secretary to handle correspondence with Skyhold while on the road, all of which Alistair accepted gratefully. Meri sent instructions to the kitchens and grooms to begin packing supplies and provisions. 

Preoccupied with organizing travel arrangements, Alistair didn’t notice how withdrawn Alexia had gotten until she excused herself and quietly left the table just before dessert was served. Guilty, he stared after her, wanting to follow, to apologize, to tell her how much he didn’t want to go. But ultimately, he didn’t have a choice, and he couldn’t offer her anything but disappointment. So he let her go and tried to muster enthusiasm for the sugar-cakes the servant brought in. 

 

A small group gathered in the courtyard the next morning to see the royal party off. There hadn’t been time to organize anything formal or official, thank Andraste, so the gathering was limited to the people Alistair cared about and the handful who would be riding along with him. Not to mention a cluster of grooms fussing over the horses and their tack. It came out to over a dozen people in total, but that counted as near-complete privacy by the standards of royalty. 

Farewells with Meri and Teagan were easy, or at least no more difficult than they ever were. He thanked them for letting him escape court for a few days, promised to come back as soon as he could get away again, and made one more attempt to bribe away their pastry chef. The usual. 

Once he ran out of inane things to say to them, that left Alexia, and Maker’s breath, he had no idea how to say goodbye to her. Not with everything so fragile and uncertain between them. One look at her face, closed and distant and cold, and he couldn’t even imagine where to begin. So he stood staring at her awkwardly, rejecting every single word that came into his head as impossibly stupid and sure to make things even worse. 

Having an audience for his awkwardness didn’t help any, Meri’s bright grin and the mirth sparkling in Teagan’s eyes as he attempted to look oblivious. Shooting a glare at them both, Alistair concluded the only possible first step would be finding actual privacy. Meeting Alexia’s gaze - trying not to flinch away from the icy hardness in her eyes - he mustered a wry, nervous grin and tilted his head towards a corner of the courtyard currently free of horses, grooms, and nosy friends. “Can we, um, talk? Over there?” 

Lips pressed together without even the tiniest quirk of amusement, Alexia nodded and walked silently at his side to the alcove he’d suggested. 

The location wasn’t exactly private, still in full view of plenty of curious eyes. Alistair didn’t need to look to know Meri and Teagan, at the very least, would be watching to see how things turned out. But at least now they couldn’t hear him make a fumbling mess of this. 

Alistair deliberately put the audience aside as something to deal with later and focused on Alexia. She stood unnaturally still, weight balanced lightly on the balls of her feet, a defensive posture she adopted when sparring. She was prepared to absorb a blow, emotional rather than physical, but painful nonetheless. 

All of the easy rapport they’d developed over the past four days had vanished last night, as soon as he’d announced he was leaving. He watched their friendship - and the budding chance at something more - evaporate before his eyes, and all that remained was this wary distance he didn’t know how to bridge. 

Alistair couldn’t accept that this brief interlude, a few days of stolen happiness, was all he could have, all he could hope for. He wasn’t willing to give up on this so easily. Just because she was on the defensive didn’t mean he had to deliver the attack she expected. 

“I… I’m sorry I have to go.” Alistair stumbled over his words, unsure how to begin but unable to endure the strained silence any longer. “I’d much rather stay here at Redcliffe. With you.” Was that too forward? Would he scare her off if he presumed too much? “With all of you. It’s much nicer here than in Denerim. But _someone_ decided I should run a country. It was probably a mistake, really, but we seem to be stuck with it.” 

“No, it was the right decision.” Alexia’s vehement statement mercifully interrupted his fumbling. Her grey eyes blazed with sudden, unexpected passionate sincerity. “Whether you realize it or not, you’re a good king, Alistair. Because you’re a good man. You care about your people.” She gave him a sad smile, her icy demeanor cracking to show the pain she’d been hiding. “So you should go do what you need to in order to take care of them.” 

Alistair should have been relieved she was talking to him again, flattered by the compliment, touched by her sincerity. But all he could see was Alexia’s wistful faint smile, the wet shine to her beautiful, solemn eyes. She clearly thought this was over, that whatever had been growing between them would end as soon as he rode out the gate. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should be grateful for these few days of giddy potential rather than hoping impossibly for something more. 

But no. He couldn’t accept that, couldn’t give up so easily. These past days had been the first time since the early months with Meri that he’d felt anything like this, and he couldn’t let it go without even trying to see where it might end up. He couldn’t stay today, but nothing said today had to be the last opportunity. 

“Before I go, I need to ask you for one thing.” He took her hand, holding it between both of his and feeling her fingers, slender and cool and so carefully not trembling against his sweaty palms. “Promise me you won’t vanish after I leave for Denerim. Stay somewhere I can find you. I can’t go another ten years without seeing you again.” 

“I… I’m not planning on leaving. I promised to remain here until the shipments arrive, to make sure everything is in order with the contract.” Alexia’s temporary surge of confident, professional certainty faded when her eyes met his. “If you want to see me again… I won’t leave Redcliffe without telling you.” 

He had her promise, so easily given, and he’d thought that would be all the reassurance he would need. But it wasn’t enough. The wistful fear lingering in her eyes said that, despite her words, she didn’t truly expect to see him again, didn’t believe they could have any chance at a future. And that doubt shook what little confidence he had mustered in the face of a lifelong string of blighted bad luck when it came to caring about people. 

He couldn’t leave it like this, or the doubts would fester until they transformed into reality. This parting required something more than a few faltering words. Something tangible. Something definite and clear, no more room for misunderstandings that would grow in whatever time they spent apart. 

“It turns out I lied. I need to ask for more than that one thing.” His voice came out rough rather than the airy tone he’d intended, sincerity betraying the nerves he would have liked to hide. “I’m not sure I can go without… May I kiss you?” 

Alexia froze, wide grey eyes staring up at him. Her lips parted around a tiny puff of air, a startled exhalation. 

He shouldn’t have pushed, shouldn’t have expected a few days of honesty and playful conversation could make up for a decade of hurt and misunderstanding. Shaking his head, he tried to take it back. “I’m sorry, I --” 

“Yes.” 

Alistair stopped mid-word, startled by her firm response. “Really?” 

She gave a soft laugh, a fond smile. “Yes, really.” 

“Oh…” Alistair matched the smile, raising one hand to her cheek, his touch gentle and hesitant. Touching Alexia seemed so easy when he wasn’t thinking about it, holding her hand while they talked or steadying her after riding, but at moments like this, deliberately intimate, he kept remembering the fear in her eyes when he’d teased her that first night at dinner, the pain in her voice when she’d turned away from him in the practice yard. She could be so unexpectedly fragile sometimes, and Maker, he didn’t want to hurt her. 

Alistair brushed his fingers lightly along her cheekbone, and her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch. Reassured by the sign of trust, he marveled that she wanted this. Wanted him, for some inexplicable reason. He let his hand slip to the back of her neck as he leaned down the few inches that separated them. 

His kiss began tentative, a gentle press of his lips to hers, as uncertain as so much else between them. Alistair felt her tremble, the muscles of her shoulder and neck tensing, going almost rigid beneath his hand. No matter what Alexia had said, it didn’t feel like she wanted this, and he pulled away to give her space. 

But the moment their lips parted, Alexia shuddered, and it was like something in her snapped, the icy facade shattering and melting away. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pulled him back to her, a tiny whimper escaping her throat as her mouth sought his. There was an element of desperation in the way she pressed against him. 

Reeling, dizzy, Alistair responded the only way he could, wrapping his arms around her in return, trying to steady them both. He held her close, matching her fervor and reveling in the feeling of being wanted. As he stroked her hair, she gradually gentled, melting against him as the kiss turned from something desperate into a lingering exploration, gentle and full of promise. 

When they finally parted with a shuddering breath, Alexia buried her face against the side of his neck, nuzzling at his shoulder with a soft, contented sigh. Alistair cradled her gently, resting his cheek on her hair and trying to believe this was happening. Thinking back over the past few days with Alexia, it felt utterly surreal, like a dream. But it was hard to deny the reality of her nestled soft and warm against his chest. Happiness radiated through him from the point of contact, and he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. 

Until one of the horses whickered and he remembered he was leaving. 

“I think I overestimated before.” His murmured words were nearly lost in her hair. “Never mind ten years, I’m not sure I can go ten days without seeing you again.” He sighed, loosening his embrace and reluctantly stepping back from her. “But I don’t think I have a choice.” 

Alexia straightened as he pulled away, shoulders coming up square and chin raising. The soft flush on her cheeks faded along with her smile. She pressed her lips together tightly and nodded, like she didn’t trust the words that might escape if she opened her mouth. 

The abrupt shift in her, from relaxed and happy to tense and fearful, hurt to watch. Alistair reached out to bridge the growing gap, cupping her cheek in his palm and looking her in the eyes with every ounce of sincerity he could gather. “I’ll come back to see you as soon as I can. The very minute things are settled in Denerim, I’ll be here. Or at least on the highway coming here. On a fast horse.” 

As he’d hoped, she smiled at that, soft and wistful but genuine. “I’ll be here - or wherever in the Hinterlands my work takes me - waiting for you.” She forced her smile wider, bravely trying to match his playful tone in spite of the tears shining in her eyes. “After ten years, what’s a few months?” 

“Still far too long but the best we can do.” 

Her lips quirked at his wry tone, and she nodded slightly before leaning her head into his touch where his hand still rested on her cheek. Her eyes drifted closed, damp lashes fanning against her cheeks. Her face softened for a moment, into an expression of peaceful bliss that made Alistair’s breath catch. Maker’s breath, what had he ever done to deserve this? Finding her again after so long, getting a second chance when he didn’t even realize he’d missed the first one. They had a lot of lost time to make up for. 

But it could be done. Meri and Teagan had managed, finding a way past years of unspoken feelings and hidden thoughts. It was possible, but it took patience and honesty. Even with the distance, he would have to find a way. “I’ll write to you. I probably won’t do it very well, but I’ll try.” 

Alexia opened her eyes, sparkling and warm. “I’ll look forward to it.” 

He grinned, running his thumb over her cheek before taking his hand back. “You say that now, but once you’ve seen my attempts at courtly love poetry...” 

She laughed, arching an eyebrow. “Worse than a sprained wrist and red lyrium?”

Her teasing smile and easy acceptance nearly tempted him into pulling her back into his arms, but an impatient whinny from the courtyard provided a firm reminder of the obligations he was neglecting. He sighed. “I really do need to go. I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” Her faint smile held regret and longing, but the wistful, helpless despair had gone. That made all the difference; he could go now. 

Unable to resist, he leaned in for one more brief kiss, far shorter than he wanted but something he simply couldn’t leave without. The simple press of his lips to hers held an unspoken promise, reinforcing the one he’d put into words. He would be back, and they would have time to explore this, to discover where things might go between them. 

Afterwards, she looked at him with such trust and confidence, no longer afraid, that he could walk away, back to his responsibilities and duties, without feeling like he was losing something precious in the process. 

When they rejoined the others in the courtyard, Meri was beaming and Teagan’s beard failed to conceal a pleased grin. Thankfully, neither of them felt the need to comment directly. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by - or Maker forbid, ashamed of - his blossoming relationship with Alexia, but that didn’t mean he was ready for even the most well-intentioned of teasing about his finally having gotten the courage to kiss her. 

With a final round of quick farewells - he’d kept the rest of his party waiting long enough already - Alistair mounted up onto ‘Demon, feeling the horse shift restlessly under him, eager to go. He couldn’t resist one final lingering look at Alexia, his chest swelling with a complicated mixture of emotions. Longing, hope, and regret, along with a dozen more things he couldn’t begin to untangle. He had no idea how to describe what he was feeling, but he was quite certain that he hated not having the time to stay and find out. Giving himself a stern internal lecture about his duty to the kingdom, he turned ‘Demon’s head towards the gate and rode out. 

 

Alexia stood in the courtyard and watched the royal party leave, her eyes fixed on Alistair. Her lips were still warm from his kiss, and her hand tingled with the memory of the soft press of his fingers. She could still feel the weight of that final gaze, searching and longing. Those tangible reminders of his presence warred with her inability to truly believe this was real after spending so much time dreaming of him and even longer convincing herself the dream had been a cruel lie. 

But today had been very real. He had held her. He had kissed her. Even if he couldn’t follow through on the promises he had made her - a king might not be free to honor the pledges a man wanted to give - these past few days had been more than she’d ever expected to have of love and happiness, and she was utterly grateful. 

Not ready to let the feeling go and return to her usual life, she stood frozen in the courtyard, staring after him even after the gate closed, blocking sight of his party. The courtyard gradually emptied as people returned to their duties and routines. Alexia was dimly aware of the arl leaving, and she assumed that Meriana had gone with him until she heard her cousin’s voice. 

“Did you know my parents met at the Battle of Denerim? The one during the resistance to the Orlesian occupation, obviously, not the one during the Blight.” 

Alexia made an indistinct noise that she hoped sounded interested and inquiring. Normally, she would enjoy the family history lesson, stories about her father’s relatives, but this wasn’t really the best time to expect her to be receptive. Even so, she ought to be more appreciative of Meri’s attempts to offer her a distraction. 

She must have sounded sufficiently interested because Meri continued her story. “Father had command of the troops that were assigned to Mother’s ship. It was largely a naval battle, you know, fought with the aid of numerous volunteer vessels since Ferelden has never had much of a proper navy.” 

Alexia cared far less about military history than family history, and she found it harder to portray convincing interest. Scolding herself for being so rude, she wrenched her gaze from pointless scrutiny of the closed gate and forced herself to look at her cousin. 

A hint of a smirk showed on Meri’s face, and her green eyes sparkled as she continued with forced innocence. “I only mention it as proof that Denerim has a port. It’s a rather large and impressive one by most measures. Considerably bigger than the port at Highever, for example.” 

Alexia frowned, puzzled. They’d moved from history to geography now? At least that was an area she was better versed in, however irrelevant it felt at the moment. “I’m familiar with the Denerim harbor, yes. It’s a major mercantile port, and Alicant company ships dock there frequently.” 

“Then you shouldn’t have too much trouble redirecting your current shipments there.” Meri shrugged, that mischievous grin still tugging at her lips. “It seems like it should be easier to arrange ship travel from a major port city than a landlocked arling.” 

Her meaning finally sunk in, and Alexia could only stare at her with wide eyes, wondering why the idea had never occurred to her. Mustering her scattered thoughts, she made a vague attempt at speech. “You mean I should…” 

Meri’s grin softened, kind rather than teasing. “Alistair has to go back to Denerim, but there’s no reason you have to stay here. As much as I’ve enjoyed having you, I won’t take it personally if you choose to go.” Her playful smirk made a brief reappearance. “I’ll even loan you a horse.” 

Alexia laughed, unable to contain the sudden surge of hope and joy. “I’ll skip the horse, thank you. Your husband cares for his animals far too much to put one of them in my charge. I should be able to get to Denerim the same way I got here.” She grinned at Meri’s curious look. “This is a major trade highway; I’ll negotiate passage with a merchant caravan.” 

Her thoughts suddenly awhirl with planning - what to pack, who to contact, and how quickly she could go after Alistair - Alexia hurried back to her room, almost missing Meri’s self-satisfied smile. 

 

Alistair sighed as he stared at the piles of papers covering his desk. He’d been back in Denerim for less than a week, returning to familiar routines enlivened by the new threats and problems that had developed during his absence. As usual. His stolen interlude at Redcliffe felt less and less real as the days passed, as he got buried in the urgent, tedious business of ruling. 

He cast a guilty glance at the barely-started letter he was writing Alexia, half-buried underneath a growing pile of important documents. He’d finish her letter tonight. Of course, he’d promised himself that every one of the past three days, but… Duty. Always duty. She was probably better off forgetting about him and not having to always come second to a kingdom that demanded more than any one man could ever give. He would only drive her away, too. 

Alistair’s musings were thankfully interrupted by a servant appearing in the doorway, fidgeting uncertainly like he wasn’t sure whether to bow. He must be new. 

He tried to muster a reassuring smile. “Come on in. What is it? Have I forgotten a meeting that you’re trying to politely nag me about? Or did someone find a new crisis that needs to be dealt with?” 

“No, neither, your majesty.” The young man finally settled his internal debate and bowed. “A messenger has arrived from Redcliffe.” 

Redcliffe. Alexia. His stomach managed to simultaneously leap with excitement and clench with worry. He looked expectantly for a dispatch pouch, but the servant’s hands were empty. “Where’s the message?” 

“She wouldn’t give me one, sire. Said it had to be delivered in person.” He bowed again, likely hoping an excess of manners would make up for having to disappoint royalty. 

Alistair didn’t care; he just wanted the boy to hurry up. “Show her in then.” 

With one final bow - Maker’s breath, another one? - the servant left to get the messenger. 

Alistair returned to looking at the report on the top of the pile while he waited, although he might as well not have bothered. The spidery script wouldn’t resolve into proper words. Probably because he couldn’t keep his eyes on the paper long enough in between impatient glances towards the door. 

The messenger arrived at last, a tall, hooded woman with heavy road dirt on her boots and trousers. He could almost see the dust puff from her cloak as she bowed, following the servant’s lead. Her hood fell away as she straightened, and he had to be seeing things. 

Alexia. Her face lined with grime and weariness. Her braided hair snarled. She was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in days. 

“You asked me to inform you if I was leaving Redcliffe.” She spread her hands with a small, nervous smile. “Clearly I have.” 

She’d come because she was leaving. It felt like Alistair’s stomach had filled with lead, but he tried not to let the reaction show on his face. He had years of practice at hiding his disappointment, after all. And at least she cared enough to come tell him she was going before hopping onto a ship and sailing out of his life. That ought to mean something. 

Staying seated behind his desk, he used the barrier as protective distance. “Where are you going?” He tried to make it sound like friendly curiosity rather than a petulant complaint. 

“I had thought…” Alexia ducked her head, cheeks flushing as she looked away. “I hoped I might stay here for a while, if your majesty would want me to.” 

The lead vanished, and his heart leapt into his throat instead. “Here?” 

She responded to his eager excitement with a half smile, faintly teasing. “Here in Denerim, not here in your office. I imagine I would get in the way.” 

He didn’t bother trying to fight the relieved laughter her playful smile drew from him. “You’re welcome either place. I’d make room for you, maybe clear out some of these useless document chests the privy council insists I keep.” 

Now that he knew she was staying, that she had come for _him_ , the distance was intolerable rather than protective. Alistair needed to greet her properly. He was around his desk in a heartbeat, arms spread to embrace her, but she stepped back before he could reach her. 

Wounded by the rejection, he stopped, joy deflating as he wondered what he’d done wrong this time. “I’m sorry. Was that…” 

“No, not at all!” Alexia’s eyes were wide and sincere as she shook her head. “But I’m horribly road-stained, and your clothes…” 

“Can be cleaned.” He glanced down at the stupid formal garments he was wearing. “Probably. And if they can’t, I don’t particularly care.” His vehemence convinced her, and when he stepped forward again, she met him eagerly. 

Alistair wrapped his arms around her, and her head tucked under his chin as she nestled against his chest like she was always meant to fit there, warm and secure and trusting. She smelled of dirt and sweat and horses and smoke. Solid things, real things that proved she was truly here, had traveled halfway across the nation to be at his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and murmured into her hair. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“So am I.” Her words were nearly lost, muffled by the fur of his collar, but he didn’t need to hear them. He could feel the truth of it in the way she relaxed against his chest, her breathing slowing and shoulders lowering as they both started to finally believe this might work out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Seven months later**

The royal ballroom had been transformed for the evening, bright with candlelight and tastefully ornamented with vibrant spring flowers. Teagan approved of the restrained, elegant beauty that never crossed the line into becoming ostentatious. That seemed entirely appropriate for the occasion and the woman it honored. 

At loose ends for a few minutes, Teagan scanned the other guests fringing the edges of the dance floor and caught sight of Alexia, who he had been hoping to speak with this evening. Even as he made his way through the crowd to reach her, he wondered if he ought to disturb her thoughts. She looked contemplative, and he wasn’t sure what he might be interrupting. 

Alexia’s head turned as he paused a few feet away from her, and her broad smile of welcome dispelled his concerns. “It’s safe to talk to me.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “No lilies tonight, I promise.” 

Chuckling ruefully at the awkward memory, Teagan moved to stand next to her, noting the scent of roses rather than the lily of the valley that triggered his allergies. “I understand I have you to thank for tonight’s festivities.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Alexia waved off his thanks with a casual shrug. “All I did was ask when Meri’s birthday is.” 

An innocent question which had doubtless led to an uncomfortable conversation about the side effects of being a Grey Warden, particularly with regard to shortened lifespans and why a Warden might not wish to celebrate another year gone. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Alexia had known about Grey Wardens before that point, despite her close attachment to two of them. But even more, he wondered why it had taken an outsider to suggest that Meriana’s steadfast refusal to celebrate her birthday might have softened now that her Taint had been removed. Of course, Teagan had been somewhat focused on other possible results of that change. 

As they spoke, Teagan’s eyes sought out Meri, as always. He found her fairly quickly, dancing with her brother, the rich dark blue of her gold-accented gown draping enticingly over her curves as she moved gracefully through the steps. He fancied that he could see the slight swell of her abdomen where their child grew, although the early stage of the pregnancy and the cut of her dress made that highly unlikely. The concealing drape of the gown was deliberate, of course. Meri had decided that the addition of being a former Grey Warden to the usual risks of early term created too much uncertainty to share their happy news this early. 

Which meant Teagan ought to keep his mind on the conversation lest Alexia notice his lapse in attention and ask questions he wasn’t at liberty to answer. Besides, he had sought her out for a reason. “Regardless of how much credit you wish to take, I remain glad and grateful you started the conversation that led to this celebration.” 

Alexia continued deflecting his thanks. “Starting the conversation truly is all I did. Everything since then has been the work of Fergus and Alistair... and the palace staff.” She paused and he tore his eyes away from his wife to see why, catching a thoughtful tilt of her head as she continued. “I know Meri avoids Denerim, but she really doesn’t need to anymore. The nobles have plenty of gossip juicier than a stale two-year-old divorce to keep them occupied. And the staff and common people adore the Hero of Ferelden, queen or not.” She smiled with a slight shrug. “At the very least, she should know just how much they did for her tonight, and how gladly. She should know how much she’s loved.” 

Touched by her sincere concern for her cousin, Teagan nodded. “I’ll be sure she knows.” 

The song ended, and he looked hopefully for Meriana, wondering if he might steal a dance with the evening’s guest of honor. He located her across the dance floor, giving Fergus a quick hug as they parted. Teagan opened his mouth to excuse himself from the conversation, only to catch sight of Alistair claiming Meri for the next dance as soon as she was free. Teagan masked his disappointment with a wry smile. “In fact, she appears to be so much loved that her husband has stiff competition to dance with her.” 

Alexia patted his arm in reassurance. “I’m sure she’ll find her way back to you before the evening’s over.” She paused, then continued with a friendly smile. “But if you’re that impatient to dance, I’d be happy to stand in for her while you wait.” 

From the way Alexia’s eyes had been following the dancers since before he arrived, Teagan suspected her offer wasn’t entirely born of altruism. He remembered her as a pleasant partner during their abortive attempt at dancing years ago, so it certainly wouldn’t be a hardship to indulge her now. “I appreciate your kindness in helping me stave off boredom.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she took his offered arm with a tiny smile. She almost certainly realized he was humoring her, but she didn’t appear to mind. He led her onto the dance floor, both of them smoothly stepping into the pattern of the music. 

The conversation tapered off, and they moved through the footwork together largely in silence. Teagan found his thoughts drifting back to the first time he’d danced with Alexia, however briefly, at the reception following Alistair and Meriana’s wedding. Though no longer as painful a memory as it had once been, that day would never be one he chose to dwell on. The faint lines of tension around Alexia’s mouth suggested her thoughts were traveling in a similar vein. 

Eventually, she frowned and broached the subject they were both thinking about. “Last time we were here, I should have realized…” A half smile, sympathetic but not sad. “You loved her even then.” 

It was an observation, not a question, so he didn’t feel required to answer. Instead, he took a stab at something he had long wondered about, his suspicions strengthened in recent months by offhand comments from Meri. “And you weren’t simply homesick.” 

“No, I wasn’t.” She shook her head, eyes distant, but the moment of melancholy passed quickly, dismissed with a light shrug. “A lot has changed since then.” 

“It has.” He nodded agreement with a wry smile. “Selfishly, I would suggest it’s done so for the better.” 

Alexia’s answering smile was warm, reassuring. “I’m certain Meri would agree with you.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by a high-pitched squeal rising over the music. Startled, Teagan looked around to see a delighted Meri grab Alistair in an enthusiastic hug. Laughing, the king staggered under the sudden impact, dropping out of the tempo of the music as he regained his balance, and the patterns on the dance floor snarled around the pair. 

The orchestra leader quickly brought the song to a halt in response, preventing the situation from getting any worse. Teagan wondered briefly how much of the palace staff’s time was spent trying to create a facade of royal dignity over the reality that was Alistair, although he quickly chided himself for the unkind thought. This was hardly the first time that someone had been caught off guard by one of Meriana’s enthusiastic hugs. 

Teagan couldn’t imagine what had prompted that outburst in the middle of the dance floor, but Meri’s exuberance didn’t always require much reason. She and Alistair continued to stand there, oblivious to the chaos they had nearly caused. Meri beamed broadly, and Teagan could see the mischief in her face even from across the room. Alistair grinned awkwardly, his cheeks flushing at her teasing. They both seemed happy enough, so Teagan decided not to worry overly much. If it was anything important, one or the other of them would fill him in later. 

Or perhaps sooner rather than later, since no one else appeared to have asked Meri for the next dance following the abrupt ending of the previous song. 

Seeing his chance, Teagan bowed politely to Alexia. “If you’ll forgive me for abandoning you, I’m going to seize the opportunity to dance with my wife.” 

Alexia shooed him away with a laugh and a wave, promising she would be fine navigating the party on her own. Teagan passed Alistair midway across the dance floor. He offered a nod of greeting to his uncle, but he didn’t linger to chat, his eyes flicking away as he scanned the room, searching. Somehow, Teagan suspected Alexia wouldn’t be alone for long. 

Teagan managed to reach Meriana before anyone else could claim her for the next dance, and her face lit up delightedly at the sight of him. 

“If I might have the honor, I would cherish a dance with the lady of the hour.” He sketched a slight bow, coming out of it with a hand extended. 

Meri took his hand immediately, her warm fingers closing over his in almost a caress. “Only if you promise not to limit it to a single dance. I couldn’t bear to let you go so soon.” 

“I’m entirely yours for the rest of the evening.” Teagan’s hand came to rest comfortably around her waist as she stepped into the dance hold, her body pressing against him in a way that made his pulse leap. “Assuming your other suitors don’t displace me by force of sheer numbers.” 

“They wouldn’t dare. I’ll scare away anyone who tries. Maybe by reminding them I killed an Archdemon, so it’s best not to get on my bad side.” 

The song began, and they stepped into the opening pattern, gliding smoothly across the dance floor as she followed his lead without hesitation. 

Meri’s lips drew into a mock frown that he should not have found so tantalizingly kissable. “Wait, what other suitors? You know I’d never be interested in anyone besides you.” 

“I’d never doubt you.” Teagan drew her closer, the hand at her waist sliding up the small of her back in a reassuring caress. “I’m being a curmudgeon. It feels like I’ve been waiting hours for a chance to have you in my arms.” 

Meri smiled fondly up at him, candlelight gleaming off her dark hair as she tilted her head to one side. “You only had to ask, love.” A mischievous hint of a grin. “I would have told any of them to let you cut in.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” His heart swelled with love for this exquisite woman who had inexplicably chosen to share his life. 

“Hmm… please do.” Meri nestled against his chest, settling in as if she planned to stay there for the foreseeable future, a plan Teagan would be entirely in support of. 

Neither of them spoke for several bars, content simply to move together and enjoy one another’s presence. Teagan took the opportunity to unashamedly admire the beautiful woman in his arms. Dark hair gleaming in the warm light, emerald eyes sparkling with love and happiness, cheeks flushed from a combination of wine and joy. Seeing her like this, radiant and gorgeous, he couldn’t imagine how he would ever want to be anywhere else. 

Dancing with Meri was a true pleasure, one he didn’t get to indulge in nearly as often as he would like. Although perhaps that might change if Alexia’s campaign to convince Meri she was welcome in the capital again led to more time at court. It wouldn’t hurt to begin laying the groundwork for her, at the very least. “Mesere Alicant made a suggestion earlier.” 

Meri cut him off with a giggle and a conspiratorial grin. “You’ll have to stop calling her that.” 

Teagan raised an eyebrow, trying to focus on her words rather than the thoughts that breathy giggle inspired. Was Alexia planning to distance herself from her Marcher connections in order to draw less suspicion at court? “What form of address do you think she would prefer?” 

“‘Her majesty’ will be more appropriate.” Meri’s smile broadened as she leaned in to whisper, eager to share her secret. “Alistair showed me the ring he commissioned for her!” 

“Good for him.” Teagan’s smile came from more than Meri’s infectious joy. Alistair deserved all of the happiness that life had rarely given him, and it was good to think he might finally be finding it. Teagan hadn’t forgotten Meri’s observation about how Alistair had started laughing again after Alexia’s arrival. In the months since, the king’s visits to Redcliffe had become less frequent. While Teagan missed seeing him as often, he took it as a positive sign that the capital had become more bearable since Alexia had gone to Denerim. 

The news also solved the night’s minor mystery. “He showed you the ring while you were dancing?” An engagement ring would certainly explain Meri’s enthusiastic response. 

She nodded with a bright grin. “He mentioned it, so of course I had to see it.” 

Teagan shook his head fondly at her giddy excitement. “And that couldn’t wait until the song ended?” 

“Of course not!” Meri remained entirely unrepentant. “He’s going to propose to her.” 

She said it as if that offered sufficient explanation, and perhaps it did. However much Teagan wished to see Alistair happy, it must mean even more to Meri that he had moved on and she would no longer need to feel irrationally guilty about him being alone. 

Thinking back to his earlier conversation with Alexia, she certainly hadn’t hinted at anything about an impending engagement. “I assume she doesn’t know.” 

“She will soon.” Meri grinned impishly. “I told him he has to ask her tonight or my birthday will be ruined.” 

Teagan couldn’t help but laugh at her unabashed, determined meddling, always in a good cause. Meri, so fiercely determined to make the world a better place and convince people to do what was best for them, whether they knew it or not. Maker, he loved this woman. “That would explain Alistair’s nerves when I saw him earlier. Do you think she’ll accept?” 

“I can’t imagine a world where she wouldn’t.” 

She looked so utterly content at the prospect, the smile of a woman convinced the world had been set right. Teagan couldn’t help wondering precisely how much lingering guilt she had been carrying around since the divorce. This engagement would be doubly welcome if, in addition to bringing Alistair and Alexia much-needed happiness, it also gave Meri a measure of absolution for something that had never been her fault. 

Their conversation drifted to less weighty matters after that, tidbits of news from Highever courtesy of Fergus and dreamy observations about the decor. Teagan passed on Alexia’s message about how much time and love the palace staff had put into preparing this party for her. The intensity of her reaction to the news surprised him. He’d expected her to be touched as he had been, to smile and think about a way to thank them. He hadn’t been prepared to see her blinking away tears as she realized how much she was still loved the people who had been her subjects. It seemed her guilt for abandoning her former life extended beyond Alistair. Teagan wondered whether Alexia had sensed that or if her words were merely a fortunate coincidence. Regardless, it was good to see Meri release some of the tension that always accompanied her on their rare visits to the capital. 

As the evening passed, time slipping by in a blur of music and laughter, Teagan continued to savor the opportunity to dance with his wife, to focus all of his attention on her without interruption. Tonight, there were no urgent matters to tend to for the good of the arling, no dire threats that required a Grey Warden. There was only a man and his wife, enjoying a celebration and one another. Meri didn’t even need to test her ability to frighten away other potential dance partners. 

All in all, Teagan could think of few nights in his life that had been more perfect. And all of them had also involved Meri, warm and pliant in his arms, her eyes shining with love for him, being the most exquisite woman he had ever known. Teagan still marveled sometimes that after all of his missteps and mistakes, all of the lost time, he had been granted this second chance. He didn’t have to imagine his life without her because he could remember it all too well, and he considered himself fortunate beyond measure that it was now firmly in the past. 

The orchestra was in the middle of a slow waltz when Meri reached her hand up from his shoulder to stroke lightly over the center of his forehead, the place where a crease tended to form when he frowned. “Is there something on your mind?” 

Banishing the melancholy thoughts to the past where they belonged, Teagan smiled at her. “Everything’s fine, love.“ Her hand slipped down to caress his cheek, and he pulled her closer, relishing the way her body molded so perfectly against his. “I was simply remembering how fortunate I am to have you.” He leaned his head down to an intimate distance where he could feel her breath against his lips, his voice dropping to a whisper as he referenced their shared secret. “Both of you.” 

“Always and forever.” Her face was soft and unguarded, her eyes bright and shining, her smile tender and contented. Maker, he was a lucky man. 

They danced through the rest of the waltz without words, Meri remaining close, her hand resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively. Teagan felt a sense of peace and contentment suffuse him, and he truly could not imagine how his life could be more perfect. 

When the song finished, he suggested Meri might want a break from dancing; their child had been sapping her energy in recent weeks, which the midwife promised was perfectly normal, a sign of a healthy, active boy. Despite her assurances, Teagan felt entitled to worry and fuss over his wife, when circumstances warranted. 

Meri started to answer, a fondly tolerant smile on her face, part of her continual amusement at his tendency to coddle the woman who had ended the Fifth Blight. 

But then her eyes flicked to something over his left shoulder, and she grinned widely, face lighting up with excitement. “Alistair and Lexia just came back in.” She narrowed her eyes, mouth twisting into a tiny frown of frustration. “I can’t see from here if she’s wearing the ring.” 

Teagan raised an eyebrow. “Are you concerned? I thought you said she wouldn’t possibly refuse.” 

“Of course she won’t! But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t get too nervous to ask her.” She peered back over his shoulder, and Teagan couldn’t help but smile at how invested she had become in meddling and matchmaking to ensure her friends’ happiness. He hoped for Alistair’s sake that the boy had gone through with the proposal; he’d hate to see how disappointed Meri would be if he’d gotten cold feet after promising her he would do it. 

Teagan tightened his arm around Meri’s waist, drawing her attention back to him. “Before you go off to make sure Alistair isn’t trying to ruin your birthday, could I have a few more moments of your time first?” 

“Of course. Anything you need.” She responded immediately, her eyes fixed on his face, tenderness accompanied by a hint of worry, as if she feared he felt neglected. 

“Nothing so dire.” Teagan smiled, brushing a thumb over her cheek in reassurance and loving the way her breath hitched and her eyelids fluttered closed at his touch. “I merely wanted to selfishly steal you for a bit longer. And to tell you again how much I love you. Maker knows I’ve done that more than enough times in the past two years, but I never get tired of saying it.” 

Meri’s eyes opened, warm and filled with love and happiness. “I’ll never get tired of hearing it.” 

“How very fortunate.” Teagan slid his hand along her jawline to tenderly cup the back of her head, gently tilting her head so he could admire her beautiful face in the candlelight, every line and plane of it a work of art he would gladly devote the rest of his life to studying. “Meriana Cousland Guerrin, you are the most exquisite, perfect woman I have ever known. You are courageous and compassionate and determined and loving. I had no idea how empty my life was until you filled all of the hollow places and made me happier and more fulfilled than I ever dreamed.” 

“You did the same for me.” 

Teagan stopped her words with a brush of his thumb over her lips, a gesture that nearly shattered his control, touching that soft temptation he had been longing for all evening. Voice huskier than he intended, he continued, forgetting his originally planned speech in favor of immediately inspired honesty. “I’m glad of that, but this is your birthday, so allow me to celebrate you tonight.” Leaning closer, he added a rumbling promise. “Both now and after the party is finished.” 

Meri trembled, a tiny gasp escaping her parted lips. 

That breathy sound proved to be his undoing. Teagan’s will evaporated, and whatever words he might have said fled his mind as he closed the distance to kiss her. 

As always, kissing Meri set every nerve in his body alight. Her mouth opened to him immediately with a tiny, contented, eager whimper, an invitation he gladly accepted. He pulled her even closer, feeling her body meld to him in a passionate embrace as her arms twined around his neck, fingers winding in the ends of his hair as she clung to him. Every inch of her pressed against him made him long fervently for the end of the evening, when he could remove all of the stiff, heavy fabric that separated them and hold her properly, touch her as she deserved. 

Reluctantly, before he strayed even further outside the bounds of propriety, Teagan pulled back, ending the kiss. Breathless, he rested his forehead against Meri’s, so close that their breath mingled together. “To be continued,” he promised her. 

Meri made a little humming noise somewhere between disappointment and anticipation, staring up at him with heavy-lidded, dark eyes. “It had better be.” 

Teagan chuckled, sharing her eagerness. “It will be. Trust me. This is not something likely to slip my mind.” Resisting the urge to reclaim her lips and hasten the process, Teagan raised his head and loosened his grip around her waist. “But before I interrupted you, I believe you were en route to determine whether Alistair had followed instructions properly.” 

“I was. And I should. He needs someone to keep an eye on him, to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid like deciding he doesn’t deserve to be happy.” Meri nodded decisively and stepped back from the loosened embrace, shaking off the drowsy intoxication of the heated kiss. She took Teagan’s hand and gave him a wicked smile, her eyes promising things that made his slowing pulse return to its earlier rapid pace. “Also, the sooner that I’m sure Alistair and Lexia are sorted out, the sooner I’m free to declare the public portion of tonight’s celebration ended and move on to collecting on certain promises you’ve made.” 

Teagan skimmed his thumb over the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse leap at his touch. “I look forward to it.” 

“So do I. So let’s get on with it.” Smiling that enigmatic, mischievous smile that Teagan had come to cherish beyond words, Meri firmly took his arm and steered them across the dance floor towards where Alistair stood with her cousin. From the pretty flush on Alexia’s cheeks and the dazed look on Alistair’s face, Teagan suspected that very little intervention would be needed. Which meant Meri would be free to focus on him again soon. 

It seemed that things were working out for the best for all of them.


	10. Epilogue

To Messere James Alicant,  
I hope this message finds you well, that your business ventures prosper and your family is in good health.  
Enclosed with this letter, please find official deeds signing over to you all of the holdings in the Alicant Shipping Company that were left to me upon your brother’s untimely death. I have managed the company to the best of my ability for the past three years, and I believe you will find everything in order and prepared for a smooth transition.  
I have made this decision because I am engaged to remarry, and I am not so greedy as to keep this inheritance when I no longer need the support from its dealings. The company has been the work of your family for decades, and it should remain in the Alicant family. So I am returning its management to you with the deepest respect and gratitude.  
Also enclosed, you will find a letter of reference that should smooth the way in the unlikely event that any of my trading contacts are uncomfortable with the change in leadership. It is possible that my name will soon carry an unexpected weight in some circles, and I hope you will use the connection to the benefit of your family and the company.  
I cannot stress enough my sincere gratitude to you and your family for the years that I was accepted as one of your number. Should you ever be faced with hardships that I might have the ability to ease, do not hesitate to contact me.  
Kind regards,  
Alexia Alicant nee Cousland


End file.
